Unworthy
by whitecrossgirl
Summary: AU after 8x05 It takes him six months to work up the courage to return to Winterfell. He knows that he is unworthy of her forgiveness but he has to give it a try. However, it wasn't just Brienne that was upset by his departure and there's something else that he left behind...
1. Chapter 1

**AN: OK like everyone else, I did not see 8x04 turning out the way it did. Aside from my initial anger and frustration, my mind started spinning and came up with this. Canon up to 8x04 and total speculation for what will come next. I've not written anything in ages so I hope it's not too terrible. **

Six months.

Six months since he left Winterfell and rode at full gallop to King's Landing.

Six months since he left the woman he loved standing in the cold, tears running down her face as she asked, pleaded, _begged_ him to stay.

Five months since the Battle for Kings Landing; the end of the Winter Wars/the War of the Fire Queen/whatever fucking war they called it. So much fire and blood… a true Targaryen victory.

Five months since he stabbed his twin, his other half, in the back and used his golden hand to crush her throat and choke her to death.

Five months since his trial and subsequent pardon. After the death of her closest friend, Queen Daenerys was willing to forgive whoever killed Cersei of all their past sins; even the man who killed her father in the first place.

Four months since he left Kings Landing; bequeathing his title of Lord of Casterly Rock to his far more deserving brother. His golden hand was flung into the sea before he left.

Three and a half months since he left Ser Bronn of House Blackwater in his new castle of Highgarden.

Three months since he left his horse at a harbour to take a ship as far as he wanted to go.

Two and a half months since he saw Tarth on the horizon and felt such powerful shame, regret and self-hatred that he vomited on the deck.

Two months since he returned to land and made the decision to go where he should have been.

One month since he crossed into the Neck; the last chance to turn back. Yet he pressed on, for he had to, there had never been another choice since the moment Widow's Wail pierced Cersei's back. Despite his dithering and wandering and time wasting, he knew where his path would lead him.

One week since he reached Cerwyn; the last town before Winterfell. He could see the tops of the castle towers just on the horizon. Here he had rented a room with the last of the gold Tyrion had given him before he left. He had spent it carefully; sometimes sleeping under the stars or wandering hungry when he couldn't afford a horse or food. He studied his reflection in the small, tarnished mirror. His beard was shaggy and overgrown, there were more lines across his forehead and at his eyes, his clothes were filthy and worn, his boots were falling apart. He hadn't looked this bad since…

…since they took his hand and he had walked to Kings Landing with Brienne.

_Brienne. _

Ever since that night, he tried to not think of her. When he did, he tried to not think of her name. He did not deserve to even think her name. He was unworthy of her. Unworthy of her kindness. Unworthy of her friendship. Unworthy of her beaming smile that lit up her face. Unworthy of the sight of her glittering, sapphire eyes. Unworthy of being the one who stole her first kiss, her maidenhead, her heart. He was unworthy to be in the same town of someone of such honour, loyalty, strength, kindness, wisdom, friendship, love. He would never be worthy to look at her, much less look her in the eyes or speak to her. She was the Warrior made flesh. She was everything pure and perfect in this gods forsaken world. She had chosen him, trusted him, let him into her heart before she let him into her bed. She didn't say it but he knew that she loved him.

And he betrayed her.

All of those insults that had been thrown at him over the years: Kingslayer was what he wore like a badge of honour. Oathbreaker was what he ground under his heel. Man Without Honour was what he swept from his shoulder. There had been some truth in them, truth that he had hidden from the world. Except for her. She knew the truth and she never used it against him. Never used them after he reminded her of his name when he passed out in her arms. She saw past them, saw the man that he wanted to be and tried to make him into that man.

But he couldn't be that man.

The moment he returned to King's Landing, Cersei put her claws in him and he was once again trapped under her spell; a puppet whose strings Cersei could control in order to make him dance to whichever song she chose. It was only when he was in Riverrun and was able to see and speak to her again that the spell began to weaken. It broke when he returned to the capital to find the Sept in smouldering ruins, his youngest son dead from suicide and his sister on the throne. Jaime knew he did not imagine that look of madness in her eyes that night. He ordered himself to stay, to try and ensure Cersei saw reason, that she wouldn't slip into madness like Aerys did. Even though he knew she was already there. That was when she played a new song for him to dance to. That they were the only ones left; that they would rule the world like they always wished to, that there was a child he put there, and despite the world crumbling around them; he was powerless once more. His strings were back in Cersei's hand, her poisonous song in his ears, his limbs moving and shaking as he danced once again; forced to obey her every command and whim.

Then with one touch and two words; the strings were sliced through and the song ended, never to be heard again.

"Fuck loyalty!"

Only hearing those words from the most loyal and honourable person he knew had that power. Hearing her voice cleansed his ears from the hypnotic melody. Looking in her eyes, he saw the world anew again, clearly again. Had it been anyone else, even Tyrion, it wouldn't have worked. Cersei's power over him was too strong. Only she could have done it. And she did. He had rode north; determined to honour his pledge; to break free from his sister's control forever, to finally become the man he needed to be. An Oathkeeper. A Man With Honour. Someone he could be proud of. Someone she could be proud of.

And for a brief, shining moment, he had been. He had fought the Battle of the Long Night. He had survived. They disposed of the dead, celebrated, drank, laughed and for one night, one wonderful night, he had been a man in love and making love to a woman he truly loved in return. Like all moments, it had to end. The message from the capital; Cersei's final shove into total insanity. For a split second, he heard the melody again. This time however, he was strong enough to block it out. For a moment.

Then the melody returned. A new melody. It drew him out of his happiness and gave him a new order. He was to return to Cersei. He was to return to Cersei and kill her. She was beyond help, beyond repentance. Beyond mercy. Jaime laboured over what to do. He had to kill her. It couldn't be anyone else. He was there when she entered the world. He had to be there when she left it. It had to be him. He would have to go alone. He tried to rationalise it in his head. Winterfell was virtually unmanned, undefended. Someone had to stay to protect Sansa Stark and Winterfell. He couldn't take the best warrior he knew with him. She would understand. He would explain it. But he could barely explain it to himself. It was a suicide mission. He knew it was unlikely that he would return. He knew his death would break her heart.

So he had to break it first. Try and ensure that she hated him, despised him. Make it so that she would be relieved to hear of his death. That she would rejoice and smile that dazzling smile in triumph over his demise. Make sure his death would hurt her less than it would. It was the only way he could protect her. She had to let him go. He had never been worthy of her. He should have never thought he deserved to kiss her, to make love to her. He was a heartless, wicked, vile man. He was selfish. She could do so much better than him. If they had any sense, every man in Westeros should be begging for her hand.

He could still see her tears.

He could still hear the desperation in her voice as she begged him to stay.

He could still feel the disgust at his own actions in his stomach.

He could still taste and smell that night; a cold winter's night in Winterfell. A night with no stars in the sky, the air had finally cleared of lingering smell of ash and burning flesh. The air had chilled his mouth when he had opened it to speak.

Jaime wished he could go back to that night and do it all again. Every night before he slept, he replayed the same scene in his head; how it should have been.

_Brienne's tears sliding down her face, her hands trembling on him as she pleased with him to stay._

"_Please stay," Brienne pleaded, her normally strong voice wavering with her tears._

_He took his hand in hers, raised them to his lips and kissed them._

"_I'll stay." He whispered. "I promise."_

_They seal that promise with a kiss and walk back inside. They warm themselves by the fire before they fall asleep in each other's arms. Everything is perfect and then…_

He would wake up.

For the past six months, he had tried to forget until he realised it was pointless. Then it was time to try to forgive. He spent months wandering the seven kingdoms, trying to build the courage to do it. To return to Winterfell and beg her forgiveness. Even if she didn't forgive him. Even if Podrick Payne removed his head from his shoulders. Even if Arya Stark sliced his throat. Even if Sansa Stark fed him to the wolves, he would do it. He would return to Winterfell. He would crawl into the courtyard, he would approach her on bended knees, hand and stump outstretched and beg her forgiveness. He would not deserve her forgiveness or her mercy. For a week he had planned out what he would do. How he would do it. Every day, he made his plan. Every day, he refused to do it like the coward he was.

As the dawn broke and sunlight began to slip across the room, Jaime stood up. He would do it today. Before he became a coward once more.

Before he could stop himself, Jaime walked out of the room, left the inn and walked through the town towards Winterfell. With each step, he felt more determined. There was finally no more turning back. No more running away. He would walk into Winterfell. He would face Ser Brienne of Tarth. He would fall to his knees and plead for her forgive. He would beg like she begged. Even if it killed him, he would do it.

As the gates approached, his pace began to stall. His heart leapt into his throat as nerves clenched his stomach. The gates were open and the courtyard was its usual hive of activity. Jaime kept his head down as he walked through the gates, not even being stopped by a guard. He was inside Winterfell. Jaime raised his head and looked around, recalling for an instant the last time he entered Winterfell and came face to face with Bran Stark. That had been simple compared to this. Jaime stepped forward, looking around for a familiar face. He only made it five paces before a familiar voice called out.

"You."

The voice was cold and he was amazed how she managed to get so much distain and hatred in just one word. Jaime turned his head and watched as Sansa Stark; Lady of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North walked towards him. Her face was carefully expressionless but anger raged in those eyes. He had seen those eyes before; when Catelyn Stark held him in a cage after her husband's death. Back then he could look her in the eyes. He couldn't look her daughter in the eyes now.

It seemed everyone else had frozen in place, aside from Gendry, who Jaime saw out of his peripheral vision rush off, clearly to find the other Starks to watch this particular scene play out.

"Me. Lady Stark I am here to-" Jaime began as Sansa cut across him.

"I know why you are. You're here for the same reason that you returned to Winterfell before. You took your time. Tyrion told me that you left the capital months ago." Sansa said coldly. There was no rudeness in her voice, but there was spite. She was making it clear; she despised him and was disgusted by him.

"I did. My Lady, I am here to se-" Jaime tried but Sansa spoke over him again. This time there was anger in her tone.

"I know why you are here. I know who you are here to see. If I had my way, you would never see her again. You hurt her." Sansa said, using just the right tone to make sure those last three words stung Jaime under his skin. Which they did. He knew he had hurt Brienne but hearing someone else say it just made it worse. Brienne had been unable to mask that pain, hide that sorrow, bury it down the way she had all her other pains and sorrows. He had done that to her.

"I want to see her, to try and make it right." Jaime explained quickly. "You don't understand."

"I understand that someone I cared about was abandoned by the only person that she trusted, that she loved. I understand that you took all of what made her honourable and true and flung it back in her face. I understand that you think that by coming back, bending your knees, sobbing and snivelling that she will forgive you. That if you say just the right thing, all will be forgotten and forgiven. But it won't. Because there is something that you don't understand." Sansa retorted, her composure starting to slip as she defended her closest friend.

"And what don't I understand?" Jaime asked as he felt the point of a blade poke into his back.

"What you don't understand, _Queenslayer_, would fill many books." Arya said snidely as she walked around him; keeping the blade firmly on him. "I should kill you just for what you did to Bran. Then you hurt Brienne and now I want to kill you before slicing that face off and wearing it myself. Do you know what I did to the Frey's? That massacre was me. I turned the Night King to ice and dust. Think of what I can do to you."

"Please, just listen to me. I'm only here to see Ser Brienne. I know that I don't deserve her forgiveness and I don't intend to get it. I know I am unworthy to even be in the same town as her; that I am everything they say I am and more. I just need to see her again; to apologise and explain myself to her, only to her. After that, then you can do what you want to me. Whatever torture and pain you have spent the past six months planning, you can do all that and more. I won't stop you." Jaime explained; didn't these little girls understand? Nothing else mattered to him but seeing Brienne again. They could stab him, poison him, chop him into pieces, light him on fire, none of it mattered. Nothing could make him feel worse than he already did.

"You still don't understand. You left something else with her that day. However it is not my place to say." Sansa said finally. "Come with me."

Sansa turned and walked inside. As Jaime followed her, he felt Arya grab his arm and press the blade into his back.

"One word. One wrong movement and you'll wish you died with your insane sister." Arya muttered as she marched Jaime inside.

Jaime's mind was buzzing with the things the Stark sisters had said to him. Clearly the sisters adored Brienne that much to feel this much rage and disgust towards him. Arya Stark had been the one to eliminate House Frey. He had caused such torment and pain to Brienne that he knew it was unforgiveable. But what had he left behind that night, aside from all his honour and potential to be a good person?

Jaime was distracted from his thoughts by a fist slamming forcefully into the side of his head; making his vision spin and the floor to come slamming up to hit his side. When the world stopped spinning, Jaime looked up to see Podrick glaring at him with the ferocity of a dragon.

"That was for Milady." Podrick snarled before he spat on Jaime and walked off. Sansa and Arya completely ignored the fact that he had been attacked by Podrick fucking Payne of all people and continued their walk to Brienne's room. He knew that was where they had been going. How many times had he walked this passageway in his dreams? It still didn't explain why they were leading him there. Why was Brienne in there? Why was she not training knights, patrolling the castle, keeping people safe and being the knight she was meant to be?

Had he really hurt her that much that she had had to retire to her bed in absolute melancholy? No, surely not Brienne. He couldn't have done that? Could he?

Finally they reached the door and Sansa turned to him. "Wait here." Sansa ordered and had it not been for the blade threatening to break the skin on his back and slice him open, Jaime would have challenged her. For once, he held his tongue.

Sansa knocked on the door and slipped inside. Jaime acknowledged how carefully she had slipped inside, ensuring he could not even get the faintest glance of Brienne. He was now so close that his body was starting to tremble. His heart was beating faster than it ever had and his sole hand was slick with sweat. His breath was coming in short gasps and he could feel Arya's smug amusement at his plight.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the door finally opened and Sansa gestured for him to step inside. Jaime walked in and his breath caught in his throat. Brienne was stood with her back to him, facing the fire. He could see the flames licking the logs as he recalled her advice that night. Always add a log to the fire when leaving the room. Things were different. Her hair was longer, almost curling at her shoulders. Her stance was different, her hands weren't behind her back or at her sides. They were in front of her. Jaime glanced around the room, looking for a sign of what he had left behind; like a cloak or a knife. For once, he didn't want to speak. He knew, he had to let her address him. If she wanted to. He would stand here forever if that was how long it took for her to speak to him again. As he waited, Sansa and Arya stepped back; clearly not wishing to miss a moment but also aware that it was not their place to intervene.

"You're here." Brienne said finally, her voice carefully controlled, almost sceptical.

"I am." Jaime whispered and before he could stop himself, he blurted out the words that came next. "Please look at me."

"Why? I should imagine I look as hideous as I did that night. Weeping and sobbing like a little girl. Why would Ser Jaime Lannister want to look at Brienne the Beauty?" Brienne asked and the self-hatred dripped from her voice.

"I don't deserve to look at you. I know that. I don't deserve to be in the same room as you. I know you don't want to hear my apologies, I know I hurt you, betrayed you more than anyone else but please, _please_ Brienne, look at me." Jaime pleaded, all of his practiced apology speech had fled his mind. He couldn't think of anything else to say anymore. Not until he saw her face, saw those shining eyes that he was not worthy to see. Before he could stop himself, he fell to his knees but didn't feel the pain as the stones hit his bones. "I'm sorry Brienne, I truly am. I don't deserve your forgiveness or your mercy. Let the Stark girls kill me or run me through yourself. I wish I could explain why I did what I did. It's all so stupid now. I wanted to spare you the pain of knowing I died. I wanted you to live your life, a full and rich life without someone as disgraceful as me holding you back. You deserve every happiness, every honour. You should be on that damned chair with everyone adoring you. You trusted me, you loved me and I spat in your face like everyone else did before me. Even if you forgave me, which only someone as noble and pure of heart like you could do, I will never, ever forgive myself for the pain I caused you. Just please, _please_ Brienne. _Look at me."_

"Why should I?" Brienne asked again. "You've had five months to return. A lot changes in five months. What makes you think I would forgive you? Do you not think I didn't know what your stupid plan was? Did you not think that I knew you would try and hurt me to spare my pain? You had a choice Jaime. You chose wrong. Now you return like nothing has happened and you beg for my forgiveness. It's not as simple as that."

"I know it's not." Jaime replied and Brienne shook her head.

"You don't know." Brienne said. "You would have known if you had stayed. Even if I forgave you and never saw you again, I would never forget you. Not with what you left me."

"What did I leave you with?" Jaime asked; it felt like he was missing something obvious. Something everyone knew except for him. He knew he left Brienne with a broken heart and at least a dozen regrets; that was why he was here apologising.

"You haven't guessed? Think to yourself. Why am I in here instead of out doing physical training or manual work where I could strain myself or be hurt? Why is everyone so disgusted with you; if all you did was flee in the middle of the night like a whore in a castle? What could be something you left which enraged everyone who cares for me, aside from the fact you threw me aside like a one-coin whore? And why have I not faced you, when if anything, you should have your back to me when you grovel like a dog?" Brienne challenged as finally, finally, the pieces fell into place for Jaime.

He hadn't just abandoned Brienne in the middle of the night. It hadn't just been Brienne he had neglected and avoided returning to for months. It wasn't just Brienne who had been wounded by him, who faced a lifetime without seeing him again. What else would have caused this level of hatred and disgust towards him from the three people he knew Brienne loved as if they were her own children?

"Y-you… you're… you mean I-we-" Jaime stammered and stumbled over his words as Brienne turned to face him at last. Jaime looked into her eyes, feeling a pang of shame at the tears that glistened in them before his face lowered to her lips, her breasts before finally the fell on the large swell on her stomach that clearly showed the advanced state of her pregnancy.

"We did." Brienne said, as she rested her hands over her stomach, feeling their child kick from within before she looked at Jaime again, his jaw hanging open in shock.

"Now is there anything else you wanted to say?"

**AN: OK so that was a bit rambling I know and I'm not really sure if Brienne is pregnant but hey, at this stage we can't rule anything out with all these plot twists being thrown at us from nowhere. **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you so much for the reviews, follows and favourites; it really means a lot. I'm glad everyone has been enjoying it and I hope you like the next chapter. **

**Fair warning; it does get quite dark at one point.**

"I'm not sure what else I can say," Jaime blurted before he could stop himself. Then his brain caught up to his mouth. "I mean, I didn't even think you would want to speak to me or that I would even get this far. I thought I would have had my head on a pike by now."

"Don't rule it out." Arya piped up as Sansa jabbed an elbow into her arm. Jaime and Brienne glanced at the Stark sisters, as if remembering they were there before they looked at one another.

"That shouldn't be necessary Arya," Brienne said as she kept eye contact with Jaime, challenging him to look away first. "His crimes had been pardoned by Queen Daenerys and Crown Prince Aegon. All of them. Whatever he did to me, it was no crime."

Except it was. Well, it ought to have been. To inflict the level of pain and betrayal he had, ought to be some form of punishment. Something befitting the Man Without Honour. Jaime tried to force those thoughts from his mind as Brienne's fingers caught his attention. They were slowly drawing circles on her tunic and he wondered if the babe was moving inside of her. As if reading his thoughts, Brienne glanced at her hands.

"They're active, especially at night." Brienne said quietly, it was still such a strange feeling, feeling something move and wriggle and kick from within her. It was a reminder of the fact there was a person, an actual person, growing inside of her. That person would be born and she would be its mother; nursing it, caring it, loving it; that had been her worst nightmare as a child and something that she never expected to happen as an adult. Well, she also never expected to fall in love with Jaime Lannister either. She supposed the gods had a way of taking your expectations, tearing them to shreds and laughing in your face about it.

"Boy or girl?" Jaime asked, he knew it was impossible for her to know but there was always intuition. His father used to tell them that he knew exactly what each of his children were going to be; although Jaime doubted a madwoman, a one handed murderer and a dwarf were what the great Tywin Lannister had in mind.

"I'm not sure," Brienne said as she returned her steely gaze to Jaime. "Thankfully it's not twins."

The barb was there and it did sting. It was common for families which had twins to have more twins further down the generations. However he knew what she was trying to say of twins of Lannister blood and he couldn't deny it. How could he, when he was the literal example of all that can go wrong with twins? Jaime nodded and his gaze lingered on her stomach again as the weight of what he missed fully kicked in.

He should have been here. He should have been here for those initial unsure days when her moonblood would have been late, those days when you dared to hope but also didn't dare to consider it just in case you were wrong. He should have been there when she found out, he should have been there to sweep her in his arms and promise her and their child the world. He should have been the one to hold her hair back when the sickness hit or wander Winterfell at night trying to find whatever she craved. He should have been watching her stomach grow, remind her that she was glowing; not fat. He should have been there when the child kicked for the first time. He should have fallen asleep wrapped around her with his hands covering her stomach from all harm, instead of sleeping in inns or under trees or on swaying ships. He should have been there for her, the way he had been for…

For his other three children.

"I should have been here. I should have returned sooner. I've missed so much, I don't want to miss any more. I can't miss any more of this." Jaime said. "I know you won't forgive me and I wouldn't expect you to, not now. Not ever. But this is my child, please let me have a chance to be a father."

Brienne hesitated before she answered. She knew all of them were thinking about the obvious; the reason Jaime left, his past experiences with pregnancies, the experience of watching his child grow but being unable to be their father. There was so much that had gone unsaid, not because it didn't need to be said but because now wasn't the time for it to be said.

"I need time, however I do acknowledge you are their father. Everyone already knows of course, but I acknowledge you." Brienne said; it was a little difficult not to, considering nothing stayed secret in Winterfell thanks to Bran, who knew everything except when to consider what he was saying.

"Thank you," Jaime said quietly. "Can I-?"

Jaime held out his left hand and Brienne nodded. Jaime took a few steps forward, half expecting her to vanish as he placed his hand on her stomach. It was firm but unlike the muscles he had felt the last time he touched her stomach, the skin was smooth and curved. Without speaking, Brienne covered his hand with hers and guided it to her right hand side. It took a moment before he felt it; a strong, healthy kick from within her stomach hit just where his fingers lay. That was his child, a child made with the woman he loved; the most beautiful, honourable, loyal, wonderful woman in the seven kingdoms. If his child had even half of their mother's qualities, they would be the greatest child in Westeros.

A second kick brought tears to his eyes and Jaime to his knees again. Instead of in repentance, it was in love. Love for this perfect gift from the gods; pure and innocent. In that moment, Jaime knew what he had to do. Jaime removed his hand from her bump and fumbled for his sword, only now realising that it wasn't there.

"Looking for this?" Sansa asked as she removed it from behind her back. "Arya stole it when Podrick punched you." Sansa clarified at his perplexed expression.

"Podrick punched you?" Brienne asked and Jaime shrugged as Sansa handed him the sword. It seemed that she had put two and two together and realised what Jaime was going to do; he supposed a tiny flicker of the young girl swept away by tales and songs of honourable knights and their lady loves still remained somewhere under her icy exterior.

"I deserved it." Jaime replied as he took the sword and knelt again. "Ser Brienne of Tarth, the future Lord or Lady of Tarth, I offer you my services and my solemn vow; I will shield you both with my life. No harm will come to you and I will give my life for yours. I vow to never dishonour or betray you and should I break my vow; my life will be at your mercy. This I swear to the old gods and new."

They weren't the correct words but they were what he needed to say. He still did not expect forgiveness and he knew he would never again receive her love or her trust but this he could do. He could protect her and their child. He would protect them from all harm and threats.

"I vow that I will not ask of you any service that brings you dishonour. I vow that I will not force you to break your oath. I cannot vow my hearth but I can promise you no dishonour. This I swear by the old gods and new." Brienne replied, choosing her words carefully. Vowing a hearth or food implied a level of care and trust that she was not ready to give yet, maybe in time, but not yet.

"Thank you," Jaime replied as he stood again. It wasn't much but it was a start. A foundation for him to build upon, to try and rebuild some of their friendship, maybe even some trust. If he had her friendship again, even if he never kissed her or shared her bed again, her friendship would be more than enough.

"What happens now? You can't expect him to stay here?" Arya asked Sansa who studied the two of them. Sansa knew the importance of a knight's vow and Jaime did seem genuinely remorseful. However she had seen too many people seem to be something that they weren't. Turning him away could make him leave the North again, only this time he would never return and she could not cause Brienne that pain. On the other hand, making him a guest would make him think she and the North had forgiven him when they did not. In her time in Winterfell, Brienne had ingrained herself with the Northerners, men and women respected her for her role in saving Sansa, little boys were impressed by her fighting skills and little girls idolised her, begging her to teach them how to fight. Many had been outraged by the circumstances Jaime had left her in.

The North remembered and they would remember.

"He will stay," Sansa said finally. "But he will earn his keep. I do not want it said that House Stark is dishonourable or too forgiving. We are firm but fair. You will not stay in a dungeon but you will not have the guest quarters. We will arrange a room for you and you will work with Lord Gendry. As the heir to House Lannister, I am sure you know something about how to be a Lord. You will assist him in his lessons of governance. When he is not in lessons, you will be on guard patrol. You were a Kingsguard and our guards do need some better training and standards."

"Thank you Lady Stark," Jaime said. As long as he wasn't being banished and he kept his remaining limbs, he would take what he was given.

"But know this," Sansa said as she stepped closer to him. It struck Jaime then just how tall she was; almost the same height as him but her confidence in herself and her determination to rule seemed to make her even taller. "If you do anything, and I mean anything, to upset, disrespect or dishonour Brienne again then I will kill you where you stand."

There was something about the steady tone of her voice, the steely look in her eyes and the clear honesty and intent behind her words that made Jaime nod in agreement. In that split second, he wondered how anyone could fail to see any resemblance between Eddard Stark and his eldest daughter especially when the person who had said those words was clearly Eddard Stark reborn. He didn't doubt that she would kill him, Brienne had told him how she fed Ramsay Bolton to his own starving hounds. Like her father and brother before her, Lady Stark would pass the sentence and swing the sword.

"I understand Lady Stark, I would be at your mercy." Jaime said as Sansa turned to Arya.

"Let's leave them for now, Ser Davos is due to arrive before sundown." Sansa said as she and Arya went to leave the room. Jaime watched them walk to the door and made the mistake of turning his back. For almost as soon as he did, he felt Arya twist his arm behind his back painfully, causing his balance to waver but thankfully he didn't fall. This time.

"I'd sleep with your eyes open if I were you. While you still have them." Arya hissed before releasing Jaime and walking off with her sister.

As the door shut behind the sisters, Jaime looked at Brienne who looked back into the fire. He opened his mouth to speak but no further words would come. No heartfelt apologies, no witty remarks, no comments about how things had changed. It was like his tongue had been sliced off instead of his hand. His mind was no better at coming up with anything to say. In the end, he didn't have to.

"I need to be alone. I have a lot to think about." Brienne said, without looking away from the flames. It was a dismissal and Jaime knew better than to argue. Instead he bowed his head and walked out of the room. He slumped against the rough stone wall and let out a heavy sigh.

He had a lot of work to do.

That night, Jaime tossed and turned under the blanket. The little fire he had lit in the room was almost out and there was no more wood. His threadbare clothes and cloak did little to make him any warmer and sleep remained elusively from his grasp. The small window let in a patch of moonlight and Jaime struggled fruitlessly to shut down his racing mind. His thoughts remained a jumbled, ramshackle mess and he could swear that he was hearing things; footsteps, doors slamming and a voice.

"_Jaime…"_

He definitely heard it that time but it was impossible. Because it wasn't a voice he should be hearing. Just as he thought that, he heard another noise; one that had him scrambling from his bed in order to pull on his boots and grab his sword. He heard music. Not just any music. Music that no one had reason to hear in five months. The same voice was singing it. It couldn't be real… yet he was hearing it, so it must be…

"'_And who are you,' the proud lord said  
'That I must bow so low?'  
Only a cat of a different coat  
That's all the truth I know  
In a coat of gold, a coat of red  
A lioness still has claws  
And mine are long and sharp my Lord,  
As long and sharp as yours…"_

Jaime followed the music, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The closer he got to it, the louder the music became and as he realised where the music was leading him to; he broke into a run.

Brienne.

The baby.

"_And so he spoke, and so he spoke  
That lord of Castamere  
But now the rains weep o'er their halls  
Without a soul to hear.  
Yes now the rains, weep o'er their halls  
Without a soul to hear…"_

Jaime burst into the room and froze in horror. He tried to take in the grotesque and terrifying scene but he could barely focus. There was nowhere he could turn without seeing an image that would be burned into his mind forever. Jaime tried to take deep breaths to calm himself and focus. In his life he had seen some horrific things, done some horrific things but he had only ever seen one thing that came close to this. Elia Martell and her children; yet to him, this was even worse.

Lying on the bed, her arms outstretched, her sapphire eyes glassy and faded as they stared at the ceiling without seeing was Brienne. The wolf pelts and cream sheets were stained scarlet and he could see the split that ran the whole way across her bump. Brienne had been sliced open in a crude, brutalised version of the operation Maester's did as a last resort for a woman struggling in the childbed.

"_Jaime…"_

Jaime tore his eyes away from Brienne's body and turned to face Her. She was standing in front of the fire with her back to him. Her dress still had the frayed tear from where he had drove Widow's Wail into her back and out her chest. He hadn't hesitated about stabbing her in the back. She was never pregnant. Her change had occurred not long after Tommen married Margery; before that disaster with the High Sparrow began. Jaime had been so under her spell at that time that he hadn't realised it until he was free of her spell.

"You're not here. You're dead. I killed you." Jaime said, the hairs on his neck rising as She gave a laugh. A high, cackling, mocking laugh that sounded almost demonic as it screeched and echoed off the walls.

"I was never really dead. I am a part of you. I'll always be a part of you. Now the three of us can be together, a proper family. They're a little quiet but they'll do well." Cersei taunted as she finally turned and faced Jaime.

Jaime wanted to scream in terror but his voice could not work. His body could not move to draw his sword. His sister looked gruesome in death. Her skin was grey and blue, there were dark purple bruises on her neck from where it had been crushed by his golden hand. Dried blood still caked the edges of her lips and her eyes, her eyes were the most terrifying of all. Wide open, unblinking, they glowed with that unnatural brightness of the White Walker's eyes, only instead of blue; they were viciously emerald. In her arms was a blood stained bundle; unmoving and silent, too young to be away from its mother.

This couldn't be real. It couldn't be real.

Cersei walked towards him, a truly evil grin crossing her cheeks as she lifted the bundle to him.

"Don't you want to see our baby?"

"NO!" Jaime yelled as he jolted awake and sat up in his bed. A dream. It had all been a dream; a horrific nightmare. It had felt so real. Jaime wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. It wasn't real. She was dead. He killed her and watched her body be burnt by Drogon's fire. She was gone. She could never hurt anyone again, especially not Brienne and their child.

_I need to see them._

Just as Jaime acknowledged the thought he had made; he was already out of bed and pulling on his boots. He knew that Brienne was perfectly safe but the irrational part of his mind refused to believe it until he seen it for himself. He also knew he had no right to go to her door and demand for her to see him but he also needed to know she was safe. He had made a vow.

Jaime ran through the castle, his footsteps echoing off the stones, making wrong turns, stumbling over uneven flagstones, his heart beating wildly in his ears as he reached Brienne's chamber and thumped on the door. Jaime realised his body was still shaking as the door opened and Brienne's exhausted face looked at his.

"Ser Jaime, what are you doing? It's the middle of the night?" Brienne asked; she wasn't impressed. She had only just managed to fall asleep when some jackass (and she could guess who) had come banging on her door.

"I-I needed to see you. I thought something had happened, that you were in danger. I dreamt, I dreamt…" Jaime trailed off and shook his head. "It's nothing."

"It's clearly not nothing if you decided you needed to wake up half of Winterfell. Come in, tell me about it." Brienne said firmly as she opened the door. Jaime stepped into the warmth of her chambers and sank down in one of the chairs in front of the fire. Brienne took a seat next to him and waited.

"It was so real. It didn't even seem like I had fallen asleep. I heard someone singing the Rains of Castamere so of course I climbed out of bed and went to investigate. The singing was coming from in here. I opened the door and you were there," Jaime said, looking towards the bed, "right there. Dead. She had cut you open, cut the child from within you."

"She? You mean?" Brienne asked and Jaime nodded.

"She was dead, she still had the bruises on her neck from where I crushed it but she moved, she spoke, she laughed and told me that she wasn't dead. Her eyes. Her eyes were like the Undead's but green, not blue. Then- then she off-offered me our baby, said it was mine and her's but they were too small, too small to be born. I couldn't face them and that's, that's when I woke up." Jaime explained as he ran his hand through his hair. "It felt so real. I could feel the cold, I felt that terror and fear and revulsion at what she had done, what I failed in doing. I couldn't save you or our child. I failed you both."

"It wasn't real. I'm fine, our child is fine," Brienne reassured as she looked at Jaime. "She is dead. She will never hurt us and she will definitely never hurt our child. It was just a nightmare."

"I don't have nightmares. I never did. Not even when I served the Mad King or after I drove my sword into his back. It didn't frighten me. I didn't regret it. All those years and I didn't have a single nightmare. Not even when they took my hand or after we faced the Undead. It scared me, that day in the Dragon pit, but it was still an enemy that could be destroyed. This time, I couldn't do a thing. I just watched." Jaime explained as Brienne looked into the fire, her hands had gone back to their now familiar place over her stomach. "What is it?"

Brienne looked at him and almost gave him a smile. "I think this is the most honest that you have been with me since Harrenhall."

"That feels like a lifetime ago," Jaime said quietly. It did. It was almost a simpler time; half of Westeros was at war, the dragons were just rumours from beyond the Narrow Sea, the Night King existed only in stories told to terrify children. All that mattered was who you were facing on the battlefield and which allies were the ones most likely to betray you.

"It does," Brienne agreed before she gave a small smile. "If you had told me back then that someday you and I would be sitting in Winterfell, having a conversation about the Undead while I was pregnant with your child; I would have thought your infected arm was causing delusions."

"I think if I said it, you would have cut my head off." Jaime retorted before his amusement faded. Harrenhall was where they had shared a bath, where he had told her the truth about the day he became the Kingslayer; a truth that he had not told anyone until Daenerys and Jon/Aegon questioned him about it. Even then, he kept it brief. Aerys was mad. He wanted to burn all of Kings Landing alive with Wildfyre. He gave the order and there had been only one way Jaime could have stopped it.

"What do you know about that day?" Jaime asked quietly and Brienne stiffened beside him.

"Just what Jon sent in a raven and what Bran confirmed. Cersei was dead. You killed her." Brienne replied as she looked at Jaime, wondering fleetingly if it was the same look she gave him that night in Harrenhall.

"It was like time had turned back. Everything, everything was the same, yet different." Jaime whispered as memories washed over him. This time, words did not fail him. He needed to tell Brienne, only Brienne.

_Jaime sprinted as quickly as he could through the castle. Even within the deep passageways he could hear the sounds of battle, the screeches of Drogon, the screams of the common folk who had been lured to the Red Keep; the offer of a safe haven actually a way of turning them into human shields and targets for the invading horde. Jaime knew what he had to do; it was a desperate last-ditch attempt; one Tyrion had already failed at. He had to try. If it failed and he died, then he knew he died for honour, trying to do something right for once in his life._

_The passageway emerged into a side corridor near the throne room. He knew she would be there, ready to greet either the victorious Euron Greyjoy or the conquering Daenerys Stormborn. She would not hide with the others nor put herself in the line of fire by watching from the balcony. He did notice the lack of guards and for a moment considered the Mountain. However he knew that The Hound's arrival had sent the Mountain stomping off. There was a time when that fight would have been viewed as the fight of the decade but that was a time long gone._

_Jaime kept his hand on Widow's Wail as he entered the throne room. Sure enough, Cersei sat on the Iron Throne. The ever obedient Qyburn by her side. Cersei didn't look surprised to see him and instead she looked almost amused at this situation._

"_You've come back." Cersei said. "I knew you would. You always come back to me."_

"_Cersei, you need to stop this. This is madness; people are being slaughtered." Jaime said and Cersei's face twisted._

"_It's a war. People get slaughtered in a war." Cersei snapped. "Gods, you still are stupid."_

"_Can't you see it's over? Even if you win, you've created this massacre. Daenerys would have let the common folk live, you've shown them their lives are worthless to you. If your enemies don't kill you, they will." Jaime said, even though he knew it was fruitless; she was beyond redemption, beyond rationalisation. There was only one way this would end._

"_Did you bend the knee? You speak as though you're on her side. Did you fuck the Dragon Queen? No, not her, even she wouldn't fuck the man who killed her father." Cersei taunted as Jaime felt his body tense. She always had been jealous whenever any woman looked at him, despite letting whichever man she wanted into her bed. "Oh, you didn't fuck her. It was that tall, ugly one who brought you back, Brienne of Tarth. Was she as ugly underneath her clothes as she is above them?"_

"_Don't talk about her." Jaime said without thinking. "We're talking about here and now. You need to stop this. Tell your men to lower their arms, end the battle, talk to them."_

"_You want me to end the battle. Talk to the usurper and Ned Stark's bastard. How do I know that this isn't a trick?" Cersei asked as Jaime shook his head in disbelief._

"_You really are insane. This isn't a trick or a plot. I am trying to save your life." Jaime insisted before playing his final card. "We both know you're not with child. You never were. Just another one of your lies."_

"_I was!" Cersei shouted, immediately flaring up. "It was your betrayal which caused me to lose it."_

"_You can't lose what you never had. You went through your change when Tommen married Margery. You told me you loathed how we could never have another child. I know when you're lying to me." Jaime explained as Cersei stood up from the throne._

"_Prove it. Prove you're here to end the war. Convince me." Cersei said as Jaime looked at her. This was another one of her tricks, her traps. She was going to make him do something she knew he wouldn't and would refuse to surrender unless he did. _

"_How?" Jaime asked as a sudden burst of dragon flame from outside lit the side of her face and he saw it. He saw the madness and delight in her eyes._

"_I know he's here. Here to destroy me. I will give my men the order to stand down… when you bring me Tyrion's head." Cersei ordered; insanity and glee in her eyes. Jaime wanted to step back in horror. Instead he stayed where he was. The pieces were falling into place; the gods were mocking him by re-enacting the fated scene of so long ago and sure enough, Cersei turned to Qyburn. In that moment, Jaime realised something obvious. Cersei never asked him for the truth of this story. She never made any indication that she knew or cared about it. The biggest event of his life was completely unacknowledged by her because it did not involve her. It made her Queen but she had been at Casterly Rock then; it had all been done by the time she married Robert. If she had known, if she had taken the time to listen, to learn, then she never would have uttered the next three words._

"_Burn them all." _

_Jaime didn't hesitate. He didn't need to think. He just did. Like he did before._

_Widow's Wail pierced through Qyburn's chest like it was made of butter. He barely noticed the tiny, weak, strange man as he crumpled to the floor in a pool of his blood. Cersei's eyes widened as Jaime rounded on her._

"_Valonqar. You're the Valonqar." Cersei whispered. Jaime knew enough High Valyrian to know that it meant 'little brother'. It was true, technically. Cersei had been born first. "No. I refuse. You'll burn first. They'll all burn. Burn them all."_

_She was trying to back away as she spoke, rambling in her madness, Jaime followed her; blood dripping from his sword as he waited. She couldn't walk backwards forever. She was quick. Jaime was quicker. The moment she turned her back; he thrust Widow's Wail into it; driving it almost to the hilt as the tip broke out of her chest. Jaime pulled the sword out and watched Cersei crumple to the floor. Her blood spreading in a pool around her; tears were falling from her eyes; from pain or madness he wasn't sure. She was still alive; her bloody hands trying to stop the blood flow and still she was whispering those same words._

"_Burn them all." _

_However, Jaime had his own words from the past to use to his sister. He said them as a dismissive quip. Bran Stark used them to let him know that he remembered. Now he said them; thinking of all the people he cared about who he lost due to her actions or her influence. He said them once, only once as he gripped Cersei's neck with his left hand, holding it in place while his golden hand, heavy and strong and seemingly built for this purpose began to press down onto her throat, the bones and her airways._

"_The things I do for love…"_

_She took longer for Aerys to die. Strangulation is a long, drawn out death even with a hole ripped through your chest. She tried to scratch his hands; fruitlessly hitting off the gold metal; her breath gave in spluttering gasps and rattles before ceasing altogether. Her eyes were bloodshot and scarlet and drops of blood dripped from the edges of her mouth. Finally, finally, she have one last desperate gasp before her eyes rolled back and her hand and body slumped. _

_Cersei was dead._

_Jaime had barely managed to roll her body off of him and get to his feet when the doors opened. The gods clearly loved to mock him. Where noble Eddard Stark had once stood; Jon Snow/Aegon Targaryen stood there in his stead. As Jon surveyed the scene and looked at Jaime; Jaime realised something obvious._

_Throughout the whole time he was choking his twin sister to death, not a single tear fell from his eyes._

_And he had not made a sound. _

"You had to do it. There was no other choice. Everyone in the city would have been killed." Brienne said as she looked at Jaime. At some point in his story, she had taken hold of his hand, offering the comfort that she denied him in the bathtub that night.

"I know. I think I knew it would happen the moment I returned from Riverrun and saw her on the throne. I saw what she did to the Sept, the Tyrells, to Tommen and I knew she was gone. I knew that when it would end; it would end like it had for Aerys. And that it would be me." Jaime explained; his voice a hoarse whisper from retelling his story.

"Did they listen this time?" Brienne asked and Jaime nodded.

"Queen Daenerys wanted the whole story. I think it helped her accept how dangerous her own father had become; what she stood to risk happening to her. If I had to guess; it's why she named Jon the Crown Prince; so if anything did happen then at least they avoided a succession crisis and so someone knew what to do with a mad monarch." Jaime said, bitterness lacing his tone.

"But they listened, they understood that you saved countless lives. It wasn't easy but those who make the right decision never find it easy." Brienne said wisely and Jaime felt a flicker of a smile. "What?"

"When did you become so wise?" Jaime asked as Brienne gave her own smile.

"I've had a lot of time to read these past months. I suppose some of it sank in." Brienne replied. She hadn't forgiven him yet but she was starting to understand why he had taken so long to return. Killing the Mad King had had a profound effect on who he was as a person; she couldn't imagine having to deal with that effect again, magnified by the fact it was someone he had cared about and who had controlled him for so long. Anyone would have wandered for months, just in the vain attempt to clear their mind.

She still hadn't forgiven Jaime.

But talking to him and listening to what he had to say beyond his gabbled apologises was a start.

**AN: OK after this I'll definitely need to shorten the chapters but once I started writing I just couldn't stop. Also I've always been a fan of the Jaime-is-the-Valonqar theory; Cersei becoming the Mad Queen and blowing up the Sept just confirmed it. **


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you for the reviews and support. I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Also FUCK 8x05 for what they did to my boy Jaime. I've got the bug for writing fanfiction again and Braime is my OTP so this fucker's going to keep sailing on. **

They were back to stiff formalities the next day. The conversation they had had the night before had been left by the fireside. It was one of those rare late-night conversations where secrets could be revealed and discussed without consequence or fear it would be dragged up in the light of day. Sansa had come to his room not long after the dawn broke and instructed him to be at their breakfast table. She made it clear that it wasn't a suggestion.

Instead, it was his own type of torture. Aside from Sansa's formal coldness; there was also Bran's silent staring, Brienne's focus on her plate, Arya and Podrick's poisonous looks and Gendry's clear discomfort at all the tension. Ser Davos; who had clearly been informed of Jaime's return; was carefully taking in the scene and staying quiet. Jaime almost wished his food had been poisoned when Brienne suddenly gagged and pushed her chair back.

"Pardon me," Brienne managed to utter as she hurried from the room. Sansa leapt to her feet and followed Brienne as Arya glared at Jaime.

"Well? Aren't you going to follow her? It's your fault she's sick." Arya spat venomously as Gendry touched her hand.

"Arry," Gendry said quietly as Jaime stood.

"You're right Lady Arya." Jaime said politely. If she wanted to be snide in her comments, he could do the same. Jaime grabbed a goblet of water and walked from the room. He found Brienne and Sansa at the end of the corridor in the privy. Brienne was kneeling on the floor and Sansa was gently rubbing her back.

"First three months my foot." Brienne muttered. "You had to make a fuss. You're your father's child."

"Are you still feeling sick? Should I get a Maester?" Jaime asked as Brienne shook her head.

"I'll manage." Brienne said as Sansa took the goblet from Jaime and passed it to her. Brienne took a mouthful, swished it in her mouth and spat it out. "It was worse at the beginning."

"That was horrible," Sansa recalled. "You vomited all over poor Tormund."

"Tormund?" Jaime asked, snapping to attention. "When did he return?"

"He returned to inform us of how the Wildings were rebuilding beyond the Wall. It is now able to pass through at Eastwatch; he acts as a representative of the Free Folk. It is better we remain united on some fronts." Sansa replied firmly. She would not confirm or deny that she deliberately mentioned Tormund as a jibe at Jaime. She knew it had probably ran through his head at some point. Tormund wouldn't have abandoned Brienne.

"I understand," Jaime replied tensely. "What would you like me to do today Lady Sansa?"

"Gendry's lesson this morning is on the family names and sigils of the Stormlands. He also wishes for you to help him with his sword fighting abilities." Sansa replied. "Arya might be with him."

_Perfect, _Jaime thought to himself sarcastically. He would have preferred Sansa's coldness to Arya's poison; however it would give him time to focus on something more useful than his own mistakes.

As Jaime walked off, Brienne looked at Sansa. "You do not have to be so cold to him."

"Yes I do. I don't trust him. I understand if you do, you're my friend and I care about you. I can't let you or the baby be hurt anymore." Sansa replied before she gave a small smile. "Besides, it will be useful to have him around."

"I suppose it will." Brienne replied as she and Sansa stood and made their way back to the hall. As they entered, the others at the table suddenly ended their discussion; making it even more obvious that they were discussing Brienne and Jaime. Although, judging by the amusement in Arya's eyes; it wasn't anger they were discussing.

"Whatever it is, get the idea out of your heads." Brienne said. "I know you're angry at him but there is no need for whatever you are thinking. I appreciate your protectiveness but I can handle this myself."

"You're right Ser Brienne, we just care about you. Both of you." Podrick said. He would have been dead a million times over if it hadn't have been for Brienne. She protected him, mentored him, trained him, encouraged and disciplined him. She was like both the older sister and mother he never had.

"I'll be fine." Brienne reassured as Arya shrugged her shoulders.

They could have made it look like an accident.

Sansa sat in her chambers, perched on the windowsill and staring into the courtyard below. Different people were going about their daily business and she could make out Brienne and Podrick with a group of men. Although she couldn't train with them, Brienne was clearly giving the instructions and Podrick was demonstrating it to the men. Arya and Bran were also watching the training, the same way they did as small children; watching Theon, Robb and Jon practice with Ser Rodrick. Things were so much simpler then. They were summer children who knew nothing of the darkness of the world. Sansa watched as Jaime and Gendry made their way towards the forge and although she couldn't hear what was being said; she could tell some of the men were not pleased to see Jaime. One or two even tried to approach him, yelling insults with their weapons raised for a fight before Podrick intervened; clearly ordering them to step back. Sansa watched Jaime's lips move before he and Gendry entered the forge and the men's focus turned back to their lesson. She noticed how Jaime had not even raised a fist to defend himself, or reach for his sword. His careful expression was one she had seen herself many times, one she wore many times. He was trying to show that their words didn't hurt, even as they dug under the surface and were the same ones his mind mocked himself with.

Sansa considered her actions carefully. She had learnt her lesson about revealing secrets that she ought not to. Her revelation of Jon's parentage almost caused another uprising before she and Jon could quell it. Some even went as far to demand that she be named Queen in the North. That wasn't what she wanted; she was content to be Lady of Winterfell and the Wardeness of the North. She had learnt her lesson about longing for a throne. Then again, this wasn't technically a secret. She and Tyrion had been in correspondence since he left Winterfell. He had been the one to tell her that Jaime left the capital and each of his letters included a request to inform him of when Jaime came back to Winterfell. She knew Davos had informed him and Jon of Brienne's pregnancy and although Tyrion was yet to come back North to see her, Sansa wondered if Jaime's return would. Tyrion was a friend and it would be good to see him again.

It wasn't a secret and she had made a promise. Sansa slipped off the windowsill and approached her desk. Dipping her quill into some ink, she contemplated her words before deciding it was best to keep it brief.

_Tyrion,_

_The 3-pawed lion had returned to Winterfell. The wolves are unhappy to see him but sapphires are worth more than gold. He is welcome to stay. You would be welcome to see him. _

_Sansa._

"Can I ask you something?" Gendry asked and Jaime's lip quirked in amusement. "Yes I know I just did."

"Go on," Jaime offered as Gendry considered his words.

"What was he like? Arry and Sansa couldn't remember much about him. All I knew was that he was a fat king with dozens of bastards. Is there anything you see of him in me?" Gendry asked and Jaime studied him carefully. He recalled Robert Baratheon as the drunken oaf who was completely useless at running a kingdom and even worse at seeing what was under his nose. However Lord Robert; who led the nation in rebellion was another story.

"Before he was king, Robert was a powerful man; a strong warrior who had little time for negotiation. He was clever in his own way, nobody was a better tactician than him. He understood the mind of his enemy and led his men accordingly. Off of the battlefield however, he loved two things, drinking and women. In a way, both led to his downfall." Jaime replied. "He loved only one woman but it wasn't his wife. When he lost her, he tried to hide his pain, when it didn't work then he drank and chased women until he could pretend it had."

"I see," Gendry replied. He knew as much. That was why he tried to avoid getting drunk and for him, there was only one woman for him. After she returned from the capital, he and Arya had had a long talk about what they wanted. Eventually they made a compromise. He would spend a year in Winterfell, learning to be a lord. They would marry in Winterfell before travelling to Storm's End together. Arya would play the part of a lady only if they received royal guests. Any other time, she was free to be herself. Gendry loved Arya for being Arya. Not Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell.

"You look like him. You have the Baratheon hair and his build." Jaime replied, he had guessed when he first saw Gendry that he was Robert's bastard. He was definitely a lucky bastard to have avoided the goldcloaks.

"I assume you mean his build from his youth." Gendry quipped and Jaime laughed at the comment. "She will forgive you. In time."

"I'm not so sure," Jaime replied. "It took such a long time to build that friendship and trust between us. I didn't even realise how important she was to me and by that time, she had become the person I cared about the most. Trust is the most important thing between families, friends and allies. Without trust, nothing can be build, nothing can be achieved. And when it is broken, it is impossible to repair."

"Nothing's impossible to repair. Take it from a blacksmith. You either repair it or you use what's left to build something new." Gendry said wisely and Jaime smiled at him. "What?"

"Are you sure you're Robert's son? That's the cleverest thing I've ever heard to come from a Baratheon's mouth." Jaime quipped as Gendry picked up a sword.

"You realise I'm the only person in Winterfell who hasn't treated you like something they scraped from their shoe." Gendry said. "I'm probably the closest thing you have to a friend."

"Gods save me," Jaime retorted. "Now let's see if you can use that sword better than your father did."

Over the next few weeks, Jaime kept his head down and tried to integrate himself someway into life in Winterfell. He was able to offer Gendry some tutelage and it seems the guards were finally starting to listen to him. Bran kept the same distance from Jaime as he did from everyone, Sansa was carefully polite to him, Arya and Podrick still glared daggers at him when Brienne wasn't looking. Brienne herself was carefully avoiding him. The insults and threats and looks of disgust from everyone else mattered little to him. Brienne's avoidance still hurt.

He wanted to rebuild those bridges, repair what was broken between them. He wanted to follow Gendry's advice and build something new. He just had no idea how to do it. He spent so long being dishonourable, arrogant and certain his Lannister name would get him out of any dangers; even after he lost his hand; that it seemed like he had forgotten how to have any honour in the first place. Brienne was so unlike every woman he'd met; special and unique. Cliché gifts such as winter roses or dancing under the stars or jewellery would have no use for her. He had already given her her blue armour and Oathkeeper so he couldn't give the same gifts. Brienne of Tarth deserved the world and all the stars in the sky.

He could barely give her the dust on the ground.

There had to be something, someway or earning her trust or her friendship. He had already apologised. Already grovelled. Already begged on his knees. He had stayed in Winterfell, was trying to become an honest, hardworking man. He always struggled with his reading and writing but he knew enough to be useful. He also didn't want to smother her with acts of affection; that would make her too uncomfortable and it would make her feel like he saw her as a fool. She was the cleverest person he knew. She deserved so much, deserved to see how he and the rest of Winterfell adored her.

After that night when he had had his nightmare; they hadn't had a proper conversation. Just the basic, forced civilities. Maybe if they had a conversation about something, anything except for the two obvious topics, it could be a start. He knew she was from Tarth, a descendant of Duncan the Tall. He had seen Tarth; the Sapphire Isles. Maybe he could suggest going there…

And then he could be killed by the Evenstar and hundreds, if not thousands of furious residents from Tarth who adored their lady and would despise the man who stole her honour.

If only he had an expert, someone who understood him and Brienne and their situation who could not and would not judge them. Someone who knew all his sins and loved him just the same. Someone who understood the complex minds of women and adored them for the amazing people they were. Someone far more smarter than Jaime ever was or would ever hope to be.

"Of course, you fucking idiot." Jaime muttered to himself as he rushed to find Lady Sansa. He really was an idiot; it was so obvious, so clear. There was only one person he had to see.

Jaime burst into Sansa's solar without knocking. Luckily the only other person there was Brienne who glanced at him once and looked away. That hurt. Sansa looked slightly puzzled at his sudden entry.

"Is there a problem Jaime?" Sansa asked politely but he knew her tones of voice to know that she was unhappy with his rude entrance.

"I need to see my brother. I want to invite him to Winterfell." Jaime explained before remembering himself and who was in the room. "I mean, with your permission Lady Stark."

"No," Sansa replied as she studied a scroll in front of her.

"Why not?" Jaime demanded. "I am not a prisoner and he is my brother. I wish to see him but I won't leave Winterfell."

"You do not speak to Lady Sansa with that tone." Brienne said firmly and Jaime looked at her; this was not going as well as he hoped.

"I- I apologise, my lady, Ser Brienne. I humbly ask your forgiveness." Jaime said with genuine earnest and politeness in his voice. Even the smallest steps would show that he had changed.

"You are forgiven. I was the same in Kings Landing; I would have done anything to see my brothers again." Sansa replied and gave a small smile. "There is a reason why I turned down your request. A proper reason, not one you may think was done out of childish spite."

"Any why is that?" Jaime asked as Sansa and Brienne looked at one another and Sansa handed Jaime the scroll. Normally when he read things, the letters moved and switched and they were difficult to read. It took a bit of concentration to know what was written, but he recognised the handwriting. He had seen it since they were boys.

_Lady Sansa_

_Her Grace, Queen Daenerys had granted permission for me to journey to Winterfell. His Grace, Aegon Targaryen sends his warmest wishes to his beloved cousins. The Little Lion hopes to meet the lame lion as well as see the Sapphires of Tarth once more. I should arrive in a month with a small retinue, less than a dozen men. We do not wish to impose too much on the already generous hospitality of Winterfell._

_Tyrion Lannister_

"He's already on his way." Sansa replied.

**AN: I'm trying to shorten the chapters up and also trying to work out how Jaime can make amends. Also I'm still mad over 8x05 so hopefully it will help me write more. I love that I've gotten my writing bug back and I hope to write more, hopefully fluffier Braime fics.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thanks to everyone for their reviews and feedback. I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who's annoyed at how they did Jaime dirty in 8x05. As for me, I'm content to make him angst a bit before he gets his happiness.**

**Also I'm adding in a shameless plug for my other Braime fic:**_** Another World**_** which is a range of AUs where Jaime and Brienne have some happiness. Feel free to check it out.**

Today was going to be a good day, Jaime decided as he looked out of his window at the morning sun. It had been two weeks since Sansa told him that Tyrion was coming to Winterfell and he was eagerly awaiting to see his little brother again. It would be nice to see someone who didn't have some distain for him. Although he and Brienne had been starting to talk more; things were still awkward between them. He still didn't know how to make things right. He had been back in Winterfell for a month now and aside from Brienne's stomach getting even larger, nothing had changed between them.

After a quick breakfast, Jaime decided that a walk would be best to clear his head. As he wandered around the castle and into the grounds, he found himself passing the smithy and being hit with a brainwave. He had dismissed the idea before but now it had returned, only better than before; the perfect gift and a practical one too. If he did it right; it would be a start. Jaime walked into the smithy, finding Gendry standing over the anvil. However the young Baratheon wasn't alone. Leaning against a pillar, watching Gendry intently was Arya. For a moment Jaime remained silent before Arya noticed him.

"What do you want Kingslayer?" Arya asked as Gendry looked at him.

"I was thinking of having something made," Jaime replied.

"A new hand?" Arya suggested snidely. Gendry shook his head at her and Arya pulled a face at him. "I told you; I wasn't going to be polite to him. Let Sansa be the lady about it."

"He is standing right here." Jaime retorted and looked at Gendry. "I want to make a gift for Brienne."

"What do you want me to make?" Gendry asked and Jaime shook his head.

"I want to make it but I need your help." Jaime explained. "I never used a forge, plus I only have one hand but I want to make the effort."

Gendry considered it for a moment before he nodded. "What were you thinking?"

"Ideally a dagger. In her present condition and when the baby is born; she isn't able to use Oathkeeper. It's too large and took dangerous but she still needs to be able to defend herself. It has to be special. Would you be able to combine the leftover dragonglass and steel?"

"I can give it a try. It might not be strong enough but we won't know until we try." Gendry said; his mind already whirling with how he could blend the steel and dragonglass. It would need to be strong but the dragonglass would give it an attractive appeal. It could also be decorative, like his hammer with the stag etched into it.

"I'll leave you to it." Arya decided; she knew that look and she knew Gendry would think of nothing but his work now. Still, she could give him something else to focus on. Arya walked towards Gendry and turned his face towards hers for a kiss. Gendry kissed her back and Jaime shook his head at the fond smile on his face as they broke apart.

A Baratheon boy and a Stark girl.

Where had he seen that before?

After Arya left, Gendry looked at him. "Make yourself useful; fetch some of the dragonglass from the storage over there."

For the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon, Jaime laboured in the hot forge. Although he hadn't been able to handle all the equipment without help due to his lack of a right hand, with Gendry's help, he had been able to create a sharp dagger. It was a curious mix of silver and glinting black, blending and mixing together at different points. It wasn't perfectly smooth or pointed but it was sharp and strong. Seemingly imperfect but actually perfect. Just like Brienne. Gendry had taken over designing and creating the hilt and as Jaime watched him create a masterpiece from the metal, Gendry's brow furrowed, concentrating intently on his task.

"House Tarth has four quarters on their crest; two blue and two pink with two… stars on them?" Gendry asked, trying to recall his lessons. All of the crests and names and mottos all blurred into one for him. It was easier in Kings Landing; all of them either had stags or lions with a rare rose or direwolf.

"Two crescent moons on the top left and bottom right." Jaime corrected. "I take it that you're adding her family crest?"

"It makes sense to, it is her House and her home. Besides, she's not a Lannister yet, even if the child is." Gendry reasoned. It was easy when he didn't have a name. Aside from his bulls' head helmet; anything he had made for himself usually had a wave design for his bastard name. After learning the truth, the waves turned into a stag.

"Yet," Jaime repeated. "This coming from you?"

"I'm just acknowledging it; she might not like that a Lannister lion had been added to a gift meant for her." Gendry said as he finished the design. "It'll be ready soon."

"Excellent." Jaime replied; he was already planning how he might give the dagger to Brienne or what he might say to her. Whatever it would be, hopefully the words wouldn't turn him into a gabbling idiot the way his words had over the past month.

"OPEN THE GATES!"

The loud yell took Jaime from his thoughts and Gendry's eyes off of his work. Jaime and Gendry left the forge to watch a dozen men ride into the courtyard. Leading them was a man; shorter than the rest but still sitting as high as he could on his horse. Even though Jaime knew it caused him pain, the man clearly wished to be seen as someone who could inspire and lead his people, who held himself with respect. As the rest of the guards and servants and squires watched, the man dismounted and without looking in Jaime's direction, approached Sansa.

"The disgraced daughter of Eddard Stark." The man said with a bow, ignoring the horrified gasps of the people around him. Some even made movements to draw their weapons at the insult to their lady. Sansa however, wasn't annoyed. Instead she smiled at him. It struck Jaime then just how rarely he had seen the Lady of Winterfell smile a genuine smile.

"The demon monkey of House Lannister." Sansa retorted as she and Tyrion smiled at each other; the others in the courtyard, now aware (albeit unimpressed) that the comments were a private joke between the two, gave them less attention as Sansa instructed Podrick to show the guards where to lead their horses to and where they would sleep. Tyrion watched them go before he spotted Brienne and his eyes widened. He had heard the news of course but actually seeing her hit the message home. She was pregnant with Jaime's child; he couldn't decide whether that made Jaime the bravest man in Westeros or the most foolish for leaving her in her condition the way he did.

"Ser Brienne," Tyrion said politely with a nod. Brienne nodded back, noticing how Tyrion's gaze fell onto her stomach. The same way everyone's did. It got a little annoying sometimes; she wasn't the first pregnant woman in the world and she wouldn't be the last. Besides, a good number of the women and girls in and around Winterfell had become pregnant by their chosen sweethearts or husbands or whichever man they had 'celebrated' their victory with since the Battle of Winterfell had won. Her child was most definitely not the only bastard to be conceived in the past few months, but it was the one with the most infamous father.

"Lady Sansa, if I might ask, where is my brother? I hope you haven't sent him north of The Wall." Tyrion quipped and Sansa shook her head.

"I was tempted to," Sansa replied as she spotted Jaime by Gendry. "He's over there with Gendry."

Tyrion followed her gaze and saw Jaime, covered in soot and sweat with a smile on his face as he rushed over and pulled Tyrion into a hug. Tyrion could smell the smoke and for moment, imagined himself back at Kings Landing on the day the war ended but then he hugged Jaime back; his brother, his oldest and closest friend. The only family he had left. Jaime's whereabouts and mental state had been a cause of concern for Tyrion throughout Jaime's months of aimlessly wandering Westeros; no matter what she had become at the end, Cersei had been a huge part of Jaime's life and shaping the person he was. Her death at Jaime's hands was always going to have a massive impact on him. However it seemed despite everything, Winterfell had done him some good. Jaime held himself tall again, the light was coming back to his eyes and Tyrion knew that just being close to Brienne in the literal, if not emotional, sense was helping Jaime to heal too.

"I've missed you," Jaime said as he released Tyrion.

"I've missed you too;" Tyrion replied and smiled wanly. "I see you have chosen a new profession."

"Just for today." Jaime clarified. "Lady Stark, may I escort my brother to his chamber?"

"You may," Sansa replied. She was curious to know why Jaime had spent the morning in the forge and emerged filthy. Arya had mentioned something about a gift for Brienne. She only hoped Jaime at least had the foresight to know that a pretty trinket wouldn't be enough. "Brienne and I will join you. It's on the way to the Maester's study."

It wasn't and Brienne knew that. Still, she knew this would be coming and it would be better to get it over with quickly. She did appreciate that Sansa had at least not thrown her to the wolves alone. As they walked inside, Tyrion kept sneaking glances at Brienne, who could see the questions forming in his mind. When they were in the privacy of Tyrion's room, Brienne sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her back. She had been feeling quite a bit of strain on her back recently. This, coupled with being almost unable to find a comfortable sleeping position was apparently normal according to one of the many overworked midwives. Why the Mother had made it so that women suffered this issues and hassle in pregnancy was beyond her.

"How much longer until the child is due?" Tyrion asked finally.

"Just over two months," Brienne replied. It felt like much longer. There were already so many things that she couldn't do any more or that she struggled to do. Yet as frustrating as it was, she didn't regret the situation that she was in. She wished the circumstances were better but deep down, a part of her always wished to have children. It was more the steps to getting a child which she had dreaded and despised.

"I hope it all goes smoothly." Tyrion replied. "I know these aren't the best circumstances."

"Obviously," Jaime said as Sansa glared at him.

"And who's fault is that?" Sansa snapped. Brienne tried to put a hand on her arm but Sansa shook it off. "No Brienne, it's true. You didn't have to leave the way that you did. You didn't have to say those hurtful, cruel things. You didn't have to run south and kill your sister. It is appreciated but you had two choices. You chose to leave then you chose to come back. You chose when to come back. You spent months wandering the length and breadth of Westeros without even a thought about Brienne. You could have sent a raven or a messenger or even just returned sooner. She had no idea whether you were safe or if you were even alive. You should have been the first one she told that she was with child, you should have been the one caring for her, helping her, drying her tears and listening to her fears for the future; what would she name her child, who's house would claim the child, how would she explain why their father abandoned them before they were born. Tears and fears that you caused!"

Sansa paused, her chest heaving. Clearly she had been wanting to say all of this for months. However, Jaime was not in the mood to be calm anymore. She didn't understand. She acted mature and grown up but she was still that stupid little girl he first met here in Winterfell all those years ago.

"It wasn't an easy decision to make. I knew that I wasn't likely to survive returning to Kings Landing but I was the only one who would be able to get close enough to kill her. She would have never surrendered, she was completely insane. As for afterwards, I would ask you to kill your sister and see how you felt afterwards, maybe then you would understand. I should have returned, I wanted to every damned day but this was exactly why. I knew I did not deserve to come back. I knew that I caused Brienne this pain and suffering and I was unworthy to return to cause her pain again. I spent every moment of those six months wishing I had handled it better, said something better than I did. I know I am every insult and taunt that has been flung at me but I know how I feel and how I want to try and mend this, to give our child a life. That is all you need to know _Lady Stark_; I am here for the woman I love and our child. I made a vow, I intend to keep that vow, despite what you or anyone else in these damned seven kingdoms thinks of it!" Jaime retorted, his chest heaving and his temper still riled. For a moment there was silence as the two stared one another out. Tyrion looked between them and spotted Brienne.

"Ser Brienne?" Tyrion asked, noticing the death grip that she now had on the bedspread and the way her face was contorted in pain. Jaime and Sansa looked at Brienne and their fury vanished.

"It hurts," Brienne gasped. She had never felt pain as terrible as this; it was worse than anything she had ever experienced. She knew the different pains pregnancy caused but this was far more severe than any of them. "Something's wrong."

"I'll get the Maester!" Sansa said, rushing from the room, cursing herself for not putting Tyrion into a closer chamber.

"Try to stand," Jaime suggested but as Brienne tried to move, the pain increased and she howled with agony. Jaime did some quick thinking and not for the first time cursed himself for tossing his golden hand into the sea. The extra support would have been useful. Still they would have to make do. He wasn't going to risk Brienne and the baby any further.

"Tyrion, help Brienne put her arm over my shoulder. I'm going to use my left arm to hold her waist, you will help support her legs with the stump." Jaime said as Tyrion quickly did as he was bid. It was a worrying sign of how much pain and terror Brienne felt that she didn't complain about being carried like a maiden on her wedding night.

"Jaime, the baby," Brienne whispered as tears slipped down her cheeks. Jaime turned his head and gently kissed her hair.

"The baby will be fine," Jaime reassured as they made their way out of Tyrion's chamber and down the passageway.

_The Old Gods and the New better save themselves if our baby is harmed…_


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: So I watched the finale and I'm OK with it, I guess. Some stuff could have been handled better, some stuff was not what I expected, some wasn't good. It was, meh, my expectations were low. Of course I wish Jaime had somehow been pulled from the rubble alive. But hey, fanfiction exists for a reason and recently that reason is fixing professional writer's messes. **

**Thanks for the reviews and feedback, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

What felt like an hour but was really only minutes, Jaime and Tyrion helped Brienne into the Maester's chambers. Sansa was already there and rapidly throwing the books and scrolls that littered the bed haphazardly to the floor. The Maester and midwife were already there and as Jaime set Brienne on the bed, she gave another cry of pain. Every movement hurt, her lower back was in agony and she wasn't sure whether the dampness between her legs was either due to bleeding or her water breaking. Neither option was a safe one at this stage of her pregnancy. Bleeding meant there was a problem with her womb or with the baby. Her water breaking would be a premature birth that the baby might not survive. She didn't care about her own safety or her own life; her child needed to live.

"Wait outside while we examine her," the midwife, a grey haired, strict looking woman called Brella demanded. Tyrion turned to leave and Sansa looked uncertain of whether to stay. She knew enough about babies and childbirth to know what this sort of exam entailed and she wasn't sure if Brienne would want her there. Her own fears, anxieties and squeamishness threatened to overwhelm her, so Tyrion gently took her hand and led her to the door. Jaime however, climbed onto the bed behind Brienne and propped her back up, wrapping his arms under her arms and up to her shoulders.

"Which one of you proposes to keep me out?" Jaime asked with a flair of his former arrogance as Brienne nodded.

"He stays," Brienne said. "Please, just check that everything is fine."

"When did the pain start?" Brella asked as the Maester shooed Tyrion and Sansa out. The midwife pulled Brienne's tunic up before reaching for the ties of her trousers.

"It's been aching quite a bit but it got reall-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Brienne demanded as she tried to swat Brella's hands away and only received another ripple of pain for her effort.

"I need to check the labour hasn't started." Brella replied calmly; this wasn't the first panicked slap-happy mother she had seen and it wouldn't be the last.

"She knows what she's doing," Jaime reassured Brienne as she turned her head towards his neck. "It'll be fine, whatever it is, you and the baby will be fine. You're strong, both of you are far stronger than I ever could be."

"I'm scared," Brienne confessed quietly. "I've never felt so scared. Every danger I faced before, I could handle, I could control it or survive it but this is different. I can't control it and I can protect myself. I can't protect them, I should be able to protect them."

"You will and you are. Whatever it is, this was your body warning you that something was wrong. It's my fault; I've caused so much stress and panic for you and I shouldn't have argued with Sansa. I'm here now and I'm not leaving again. I swear." Jaime reassured Brienne; partly to comfort her but also to help keep her mind off of the fact that Brella and the maester were examining the most intimate part of her body in what was clearly an uncomfortable manner for Brienne. Jaime kept his hold on Brienne and put his rambling talent to good use by offering her reassurances. Some of them felt like empty words but the emotion behind them was real. The two of them were two of the strongest people in the Seven Kingdoms and their child had the strength of them both. They would live. They would be strong and healthy and happy.

Finally, the exam seemed to be finished and the Maester began compiling some sort of tonic before handing it to Brienne to drink. Brienne could still feel some pain but it seemed to have faded slightly. Brelle and the Maester did not seem too panicked so she took it as a positive sign. Surely if it was something more serious, they would have told her or sent for more support.

"What was wrong?" Brienne asked as the midwife wiped her hands on her apron.

"It looks to be signs of an early labour. The little one hasn't started coming yet but we can't be taking any more chances. You might be sworn to Lady Stark but you have a bigger priority now. She'll forgive me for saying that because it's true. If you don't follow my advice then the next time the labour won't stop and we'll have a worse problem on our hands." The midwife explained; her brash tone softened by the clear experience and reality of the situation. This was something she had seen too many times to ignore but she also must have wished each time was different. Of the different women and girls she had seen experience this over the years; those who heeded her advice tended to have safer pregnancies. Those who hadn't, well, it was a lesson they learnt the hard way.

"What can we do?" Jaime asked before remembering himself. "What can Ser Brienne do to protect herself and the child?"

"Bed rest and plenty of it." The Maester replied. "That means no horse riding, patrolling, training, even walking too much of a distance inside can be too much of a risk. The more movement it feels, the more likely for labour to start before its time."

"I can't lie in bed for two months!" Brienne claimed, out of instinct rather than actual emotion. She could and she would for their baby but the idea of being stuck in bed for two months was unthinkable. "Surely some exercise would be useful."

"We cannot take that risk," the midwife said strictly before her expression softened. "You've worked so hard Lady Brienne. Everything you did for Lady Stark, may the Old Gods give her rest, and for Lady Sansa and Winterfell. Take this time to take care of you both."

"I suppose I don't have much choice." Brienne said. "Am I at least able to walk back to my chambers?"

"No," Brella stated firmly. "It's at the other end of the castle and up a flight of stairs."

"I'll carry you," Jaime volunteered shyly. He hadn't hesitated carrying her but that had been an emergency. Now, he knew it could make her uncomfortable and her comfort was now his sole priority.

"I suppose it's more practical than getting a litter inside." Brienne stated dryly as Jaime eased out from behind her and the Maester helped him place his arms around her. A tiny, very secretive part of her that she would deny ever existed; did enjoy the feeling of being in Jaime's arms. His arms were strong and supportive, his left hand was gently but firmly holding her waist and as she rested her head on his shoulder, she could still smell some of the smoke and sweat. She did wonder what he had been doing in the smithy. This had been the first time she had been this close, been in his arms since… well, if her timing was correct, the night that their child was conceived. The night he rode for Kings Landing.

Brella opened the door and Jaime stepped out into the corridor to find Sansa and Tyrion had been joined by Gendry, Arya and Podrick who had all been sitting or leaning against the stone walls, waiting for some sort of news. A simple glance from Sansa stopped them from crowding them but not their questions.

"What happened?"

"Is everything fine with the baby?"

"Are you hurt?"

"What did the Maester say?"

"We're fine," Brienne reassured the four young people who she regarded as her children. It had begun as a joke, a way for them to lift her spirits before it almost became real. "Brella said it was a sign of early labour but the baby should be fine. I just need to rest."

"And you will." Sansa stated promptly. "Podrick can manage the men's training and I can manage without a guard. One of the handmaidens can help bring your food and look after you."

"There's no need for that," Brienne said as Podrick smiled. Although not in the best circumstances, he was pleased with his new responsibilities and as long as Brienne was cared for, he could deal with more work.

"All the handmaids in the castle would gladly look after you," Podrick said. Some of the ones he had spoken to had loved his stories of travels and adventure, partly because of his experiences but how Brienne had managed to time and again, prove herself the hero.

"We need to get her to her chamber first," Jaime said as Podrick led the way. Arya frowned at the way he was holding Brienne but a sharp pinch from Sansa caused her to aim the frown at her sister. Sansa silently shook her head and tapped her little finger on her left hand three times. That was their code to speak later; the code they had developed when they were plotting how to dispose of Littlefinger. Arya nodded and walked on in silence.

When they reached Brienne's chamber, Sansa offered to stay to help Brienne change her clothes. Arya, Podrick and Gendry carefully gave her a hug, mindful of her stomach and back before they left the room. As they did, Arya tapped her finger three times and the trio looked at each other, sharing a silent conversation before making their way to Sansa's bedchamber. Tyrion looked from Jaime to Brienne and back to his brother. They needed to have a long conversation about this.

"I'll wait outside for you." Tyrion said as Jaime helped Brienne balance her weight against the chair. She would need enough strength to stand and step out of her trousers before into the nightgown she had taken to wearing when trousers became too uncomfortable to sleep in.

"I won't be long, I'll have more than enough time to get used to that corridor." Jaime replied as Tyrion left the room.

"What do you mean?" Brienne asked as Jaime blushed slightly. He had had this thought in his mind from the moment Brienne had been instructed to go on bed rest. He had already missed too much and today was too much of a close call. He was not going to be any further from her side until the child was born. He had made a vow. He was her sworn sword. He was not going anywhere.

"I was going to stay outside, just in case anything else happened. I know it won't but I need to be sure." Jaime replied as Sansa's expression softened. She had been so worried about Brienne that she hadn't given Jaime's feelings much thought since the Maester chased her out. The way Jaime looked at Brienne, forgot their argument to stay with Brienne and refused to leave her side. Even now, the way he looked at her as he helped her out of her trousers; was not with lust but with love. Real love. The sort of love that her father used to look at her mother with. The sort of love she always dreamed of having. A love built over as much hardships as pleasant times. One that could overcome any obstacle, weather any storm. True love.

"There's no need," Brienne said as Sansa eased the nightgown over her head.

"There is, I'm ordering him to. Until we have a handmaiden for you, I'm entrusting Jaime to look after you." Sansa said as she and Jaime helped Brienne into her bed. Brienne would have argued but now that she was in her bed, it hit her just how exhausted she was. Sleep came to her almost immediately. As she drifted off to sleep, Jaime threw a few more logs onto the fire. Brienne always preferred a lit fire when she slept. Once he was satisfied the room would be warm enough he and Sansa left the room.

"Thank you Ser Jaime. I apologise for my words earlier." Sansa offered sincerely.

"You spoke the truth. You Starks are always honest." Jaime replied and gave a small smile. "You have a similar temperament to your mother. Only she had me gagged."

"I haven't ruled it out." Sansa warned before offering her curtsies to the Lannister brothers. "Look after her, my lords."

"Lady Sansa," Tyrion and Jaime chorused, bowing to her. As Sansa walked off, Tyrion looked at Jaime.

"We have a lot to talk about." Tyrion said as he leaned against the wall. He had expected some tension, maybe an unstable relationship. He had not expected this. Apart from the baby's health issues, he had not expected Jaime to be so clearly, totally, utterly in love. This was different to his and Cersei's toxic relationship and distorted idea of love. This was the real thing; the sort that songs were written about and wars were waged over.

It was going to be a long night.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Thank you for your reviews and support, I'm glad you liked it. Also I've got a week off now for half-term so I should hopefully be updating a few more times this week.**

"What do you want to speak to us about?" Podrick asked as he wheeled Bran into the room. Sansa was standing by the fire, Arya and Gendry were sitting side by side on the bed and Podrick leaned against the desk.

"About Jaime and Brienne," Sansa replied. "We need to stop being so harsh on him. It's been a month and he's proven that he is trying to atone for his mistake."

"Is this just because of what happened today?" Arya asked. "He still missed out on too much."

"And you can see that he regrets it. If you heard him speak about it, you would know how angry he is." Gendry reasoned. "He's angry at himself, he doesn't need us doing that for him."

"Exactly. You didn't see him today. We had been having an argument when Tyrion realised Brienne was in pain. Immediately he had forgotten it and he refused to leave Brienne. He was scared but he hid it. He helped her, looked after her." Sansa said and Arya rolled her eyes skyward. "Arya, I am not that little girl. I know what I saw. He looked at her the way Father used to look at Mother."

Arya froze and looked at Sansa and Bran. The three of them remembered how their parents used to be with each other. How much they loved and were in love with each other. There were times when the children had felt like they could have dropped dead and their parents wouldn't have noticed as they were too fixated on each other. "That serious?"

"He always had loved her. He just didn't realise it until he had to." Bran explained. He had been keeping out of the drama. It was an annoyance of being able to see Past, Present and Future. It was impossible to avoid explaining or spoiling people's futures for them. He had learnt his lesson about interfering with the lives of others. He still sometimes heard Wyllis' voice; how the mantra became repetitive, strained and contrived into one word; the only word he had spoken until the day he had died. Hodor.

"We've not been acting like adults." Podrick said finally. "We've been behaving like spoiled brats. We care for Brienne but she's not our mother and we know she can look after herself. We can't cause her any more stress."

"So we're in agreement. No matter how each of us feels personally for Jaime; that gets put aside until the baby's born. After that, it's up to each of you but I'm finished being angry at him." Sansa explained. Feelings were complicated and the scenario was complicated even further by all of them. Due to the experiences and traumas they had all faced in their youth, it had only been natural for them to flock to Brienne's care and protectiveness, wishing for some of the love, support and help they had had in childhood. Brienne had been a mother without children. Now that she had a child and that child required so much support and attention, they had to acknowledge it and try to act a little more like their ages.

"Agreed," Gendry and Bran said quickly.

"Agreed," Podrick said after a moment's pause.

"Fine," Arya said and smiled. "So I guess we need to take that sheep shit out of his mattress then."

Sansa rolled her eyes as Arya, Gendry and Podrick left the room to do just that. Bran smiled at his sister as she wheeled him back to his room. She would have to ask Bran if he considered making larger wheels on his chair, it could give him a little bit more independence if he could take himself around the castle. Once Bran had been returned to his bedroom, Sansa went to summon her guards and lords. She would pass the same instruction onto them and ensure it was spread around Winterfell. There was to be no more animosity to be shown directly to Jaime. Their thoughts were their own but he was to be treated with the same manners that they showed each other until Brienne's baby had been born. Once Sansa added the spin of making the instructions seem more like a benefit for Brienne, the men had been more eager to change their outwards attitude.

Brienne had no idea just how much she was adored by the people of Winterfell.

"When did this begin?" Tyrion asked Jaime as they sat on the floor outside Brienne's chamber. "I know how you met and you told me that you became friends after you lost your hand. When did that friendship become love?"

That was a good question. He had considered Brienne a friend when he lost his hand, the way that she cared for him, helped him, tended to him had caused their friendship to develop a spark. It became official after their bath. Friends shared secrets, friends trusted each other and he had never had a friend that he had trusted enough to share that secret. So when had it become love? He had found an attraction in her body in the bath; tall, strong, toned muscles, not a conventional beauty but a beauty in her own right and on her own terms. But physical attraction was not love. Possibly when he dreamed of her but he knew the moment when he had felt something more than friendship for Brienne of Tarth.

"Probably when I jumped into a bear pit for her." Jaime said and Tyrion's jaw dropped.

"You did what?" Tyrion asked. He had never heard that story. He would have definitely remembered such a tale. "Was there a bear in there?"

"Well it wasn't a goat!" Jaime quipped sarcastically. "She had been forced into a bear pit with only a wooden sword to protect herself with. As soon as I heard, I rushed there and I saw her wound on her shoulder. I didn't hesitate. I had no weapons and only one hand. It was the stupidest and bravest thing I had ever done. But I had to help her."

"Hmm, I would have thought charging at Drogon was the stupidest thing you had ever done." Tyrion remarked as Jaime looked at him.

"You were there?" Jaime asked and Tyrion nodded.

"I was and I watched you act like a fucking idiot. However, we are getting side tracked. If you loved her at the Bear Pit, why didn't you do anything when you returned to Kings Landing? Father had been planning to strip you from the Kingsguard, you could have married her years ago. You could have had an army of children at this point." Tyrion asked, although he already could guess what Jaime's answer would be. Jaime's life had been split into two fractions at that point. Jaime the Kingslayer and Jaime the man aiming to redeem himself. Both clashed at the capital and the Kingslayer won out.

"You know why, I had to send her to find Sansa after Joffrey's death. We both knew you were both innocent. I had to stay to try and protect you, she had to find and protect Sansa. After she left, we didn't see each other again until Riverrun. She had come to try and get the Blackfish to join Sansa for the Battle of the Bastards, I was there to try and break the siege." Jaime replied; his mind travelling back to that day in the tent. He had forgotten how blue her eyes were, how passionate she was in her convictions about honour and loyalty and his potential to be a good man. There had been a moment of madness in his mind during that conversation, where if Brienne had asked him to take his men north instead of the Tully's men; he probably would have done it. Not for Sansa, definitely not for Jon or for Winterfell.

But because Brienne would have asked him to.

"Then you returned to the capital," Tyrion prompted. They had received news of what had happened when the last few of Varys' little birds who hadn't been recruited by Qyburn managed to get the news to him, along with Ellaria Sand and Olenna Tyrell. Tyrion had wept for Tommen; the only choice Tommen had been able to make in regards to his own life had been to end it. It also could have ended the war a little easier. Tommen would have been more likely to negotiate than Cersei.

"I saw the Sept, I saw her get crowned and I saw madness in her eyes. Madness and insanity." Jaime finished, shaking his head. "I had tried to convince myself that I was staying to monitor her mental state and her behaviour. I reasoned that she wouldn't have done anything reckless if I was around to stop her. Obviously I was wrong."

"Yet you finally made the right choice." Tyrion replied. He remembered, in the midst of his frustration with Jon's idiotic need to be honest, watching Jaime and Brienne speaking as Cersei had been trying to leave. He had never paid much interest in his brother's friendship with Brienne until that day but clearly he should have. Jaime didn't just let anyone grab him and tell him to abandon his family without at least trying to attack them. That should have told Tyrion just how important Brienne was.

"Sometimes you just have to say 'fuck loyalty'." Jaime said before his expression grew sombre. "She deserves so much better than me."

"You've made mistakes, you've done some stupid things and you've said stupider things but you have always tried to atone for them, to try and do something to make it right. That's what matters about you and that's what Brienne sees in you." Tyrion explained. "We can't choose who we love but we also can't choose who loves us. If Brienne didn't love you, she would have turned you away, refused to acknowledge you as the child's father, she wouldn't have let you near her today or let you stay with her."

"Do you think so?" Jaime asked and Tyrion rolled his eyes.

"Everyone knows how the two of you feel about each other. Gods, if there haven't been any songs written about the two of you yet, then I can assure you that there will be." Tyrion quipped as he put a hand on Jaime's shoulder. "You both deserve happiness, no matter how long it takes, you will have that happiness someday."

"Thank you Tyrion." Jaime said sincerely, hugging Tyrion tightly. "You should get some sleep, it's been a long day."

"I think I will," Tyrion said, climbing to his feet and walking down the corridor. "Take care of her Jaime."

"I will," Jaime answered quietly, standing up and taking a few paces up and down the passageway to regain some feeling in his legs. It was an action that he repeated every half hour or so; pacing or patrolling the passageway. Once or twice, he checked in on Brienne, who was still sleeping soundly, and added another log to the fire. The third time he did, Jaime swept her fringe out of her face. Brienne murmured sleepily at the action but didn't wake. Jaime smiled softly and gently kissed her forehead. Gods he loved her.

"How sentimental."

Jaime felt his spine stiffen as he turned and faced the figure in the doorway. Jaime turned to face her. Unlike in his nightmare, she looked how she did when he returned to Kings Landing, before their children had been killed, when he had been under her control. Her hair was long and hung in loose curled waves and she was wearing her favourite scarlet gown. He looked at her, directly at her and realised how free he was. Free of her control, her lies. Even his memory of her had no control anymore. All she was now was a memory, a ghost, a poor example of what there once was.

"You're not real. I watched you die. I killed you." Jaime said quietly.

"Oh Jaime, haven't you realised, I am always a part of you." Cersei said as she stepped forward. Even though he knew that she wasn't real, she seemed eerily lifelike. But he was stronger now. He was in control. In control of his mind, his feelings, his memories.

"You are, but you're the part I will always try to improve. You're the example of the worst of me. I will not think of you again. I will not care for you again. You're nothing." Jaime said to Cersei as behind him, Brienne shifted on the mattress.

"Jaime? Is that you?" Brienne asked sleepily, turning her head and rubbing her eyes. Jaime sat on the mattress and took her hand.

"It's me, sorry, I was just thinking out loud." Jaime apologised as he pressed a kiss to her hand. "Go back to sleep."

"I'll ignore that you did that, keep those kisses to yourself." Brienne mumbled as her eyes drifted shut again. Jaime fixed the quilt over Brienne, smoothing it out with his left hand before he turned back to look at the doorway again.

Cersei had gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thanks for the reviews and feedback; I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

It took less than two days for Brienne to get restless and frustrated about being stuck in bed. She was barely able to use a chamber pot without someone hovering over her, fussing over every movement and action that she made. If it wasn't Sansa then it was Tyrion and if it wasn't Tyrion then it was Podrick and if it wasn't Podrick then it was the Maester or midwife. Throughout her pregnancy, Brienne had adapted to not being as active or having someone fuss over her; it was something that she knew would happen the moment she discovered that she was pregnant. This however, was quickly becoming unbearable. Of course, the most frustrating part was that she knew there was nothing that she could do about it and nothing that she would do about it. This was all for the benefit of the baby. If it kept the baby healthy and happy then she would grit her teeth and deal with it.

Although she did have to admit, it was nice to be able to lie back in bed and let other people do the chores that she didn't want to do. She didn't have to add wood to the fire or polish her boots. Podrick had taken over training so she didn't have to deal with impertinent men who could barely hold a sword properly. Throughout the day, different people had come to her with different gifts or items to help keep her mind active. Tyrion had brought her books from Winterfell's library, Podrick had brought her reports on the men's training, Arya had brought her some throwing blades and promised to spend time helping her throw them. Sansa had made the decision to complete her work or her sewing in Brienne's chamber; allowing Brienne some adult conversation that didn't involve new-borns or weapons. Other gifts, such as blankets for her bed or clothes for the baby began to appear; all of which had been thoroughly checked before being brought to Brienne.

For most of the first few days of her bed rest, Jaime had stayed away. Brienne vaguely remembered waking up in the middle of the night to hear him speaking and the feeling of his lips on her hand. She was still conflicted on how she felt about Jaime but it was a different conflict now. She still felt anger towards him but it wasn't as fierce as it had been. Perhaps a small part of her would always be hurt over how he had acted that night but for the most part; she couldn't pinpoint how she felt about Jaime.

She cared for him, she respected how he had made the effort to change his behaviour and prove his worth to her. She appreciated all that he had done for her and the baby. She was amused at his efforts to ignore the different tricks the others had tried to play on him. She felt sympathetic to his plight and his experiences over the past seven months. She knew he was trying to turn on the charm with his gentle caresses and soft kisses; always on her forehead or hand, never on her lips. He was respecting her boundaries and her feelings. He didn't want her to think he was disrespecting her or being cruel by promising false kisses and affection merely because she was carrying his child. As soon as she felt certain that she had worked out how to understand his mind, he did something which turned it all on its head again.

It was an endless cycle and now that she had nothing to do but lie in bed and run it through her mind, Brienne was certain that it was going to drive her insane. Brienne lay back against the pillows and rubbed her forehead. She needed a distraction and she needed one quickly. Brienne picked up one of the books that Tyrion had set aside for her and began to study its pages. It was a history of the Night's Watch and it was an interesting read. When she was little and before she learnt that only men could join the Nights Watch, she had considered joining them. Her father had explained to her that it meant leaving everything behind; Tarth, the sea, her family before he advised her that only men or boys could join. She hadn't expected she would have seen Castle Black or the Wall. It hadn't been all she expected, yet these stories still had an appeal to her. The Night King had been defeated, there were no more Wight's or White Walkers and they were on friendly terms with the Wildlings. There would almost be no need for a Night's Watch now. Brienne wasn't sure for how long she had read for until a tapping at her door distracted her. Marking her page with a piece of fabric left over from Sansa's visit, she shifted in bed and looked at the door.

"Come in," Brienne called as the door swung open. Jaime stood in the doorway, his hand behind his back and a strange expression on his face. He almost looked… shy. If Jaime Lannister ever could look shy. "Jaime,"

"I wanted to see how you were feeling." Jaime said as he stepped into the room and kicked the door closed. Jaime crossed the room and perched himself on the bed beside her, keeping his arms behind his back.

"I'm better, thank you. How are you?" Brienne asked. "We've barely spoken since your brother arrived in Winterfell."

"I'm fine, I just thought you could do with some rest." Jaime replied as Brienne rolled her eyes. "What is it?"

"I've had enough rest already. How am I meant to survive the next two months without losing my mind?" Brienne asked aloud and Jaime smiled slightly. "It's not funny! It's your fault that I'm in this mess."

"That is-" Jaime began before he saw the truth in her words. "Technically true. Although you cannot tell me that you regret that night still. From what I recall, that had been a very fun night of lovemaking. Especially when you-"

Jaime didn't finish that sentence due to Brienne smacking him over the head with one of her pillows. Jaime held his right arm up in surrender and his smile faded. "That was a poor choice of words."

"Do you think?" Brienne asked as she placed the pillow behind her back again. "What have you got there?"

"It's for you." Jaime said as he pulled his left hand from behind his back. A simple wooden box, long and slim was placed into her hands. Brienne studied the box before she opened the clasp. Her eyes widened at the sight of the silver and black dagger nestled inside the box. Carefully, she lifted it out of the box and studied it. It seemed to have been made with steel and dragonglass, the two colours mixing and swirling together almost artistically. The blade itself was sharp and although not fully straight or smooth, was a strong weapon. The handle itself had been delicately twisted into a spiral handle for a firm grip and the flat expanse connecting blade and handle had been intricately etched with the sigil of House Tarth.

"It's beautiful," Brienne whispered as she felt a swell of emotion in her chest and tried to quash it down.

"Gendry made the handle. He helped me with making the blade but the dragonglass and steel together was my idea. I thought it would be useful for you to have as your time gets closer. Oathkeeper is too large and I know you would want to know a weapon was nearby for you to defend yourself with." Jaime explained, not surprised to realise that he was rambling again. He still didn't understand how just being near Brienne turned him into a gabbling idiot.

"You made this?" Brienne asked, now trying to ignore the lump in her throat. This was all down to the pregnancy. Stupid pregnancy making her emotions into that of a simpering little girl crushing on a squire.

"Gendry helped," Jaime replied. "I don't want you to think this is my attempt at buying your affection. I would never do that to you."

"I know you wouldn't." Brienne said quietly as she set the blade back into the box and shut the lid. Brienne handed it to Jaime to set aside and once he did so, Brienne leant over and wrapped her arms around him, hugging her tightly. "Thank you Jaime."

Jaime smiled into her hair as he hugged her back. This had to be the first time he held her this close, not counting when he carried her through the castle. This was different. They had rarely hugged in the past. Back when they were travelling together it was either a total avoidance of physical contact or necessary support actions. Before he left for Kings Landing, their actions had been more physical, more primal. Those days after the battle were spent celebrating their survival; kissing, touching, fucking, making love and falling asleep in each other's arms. Rarely, if ever, did they hug like this. Jaime shifted position, not wanting to break the hug but also not wanting to do anything else. As he moved closer to Brienne, who turned and rested her head on his shoulder, Jaime jumped at a sudden movement against his stomach.

"Was that you?" Jaime asked Brienne's stomach. Brienne rolled her eyes and set her hand on her stomach, feeling each wiggle and kick from within.

"Someone wasn't happy that they weren't getting enough attention. I wonder where they get that from." Brienne stated, raising an eyebrow at Jaime.

"Tyrion. They get it from Tyrion." Jaime joked before he looked at Brienne. "Can I?"

Brienne took his hand (Jaime tried to ignore the sudden wave of butterflies in his stomach at Brienne holding his hand) and set it on her stomach. It took a moment or two before Jaime felt the baby kick again. "I would never be sick of this feeling."

"You would say that, it's not you who gets woken up throughout the night with them kicking." Brienne quipped as she tapped her fingers on her stomach. "It feels like they're marching sometimes."

"Well, any child of ours would be a fierce warrior." Jaime stated and Brienne shrugged her shoulders.

"What if they wanted to be a scholar?" Brienne asked.

"Then we send them off to live with Tyrion." Jaime replied promptly. "I'm joking. They can be a warrior and a scholar."

"And if they're a girl who doesn't want to fight and would rather be a lady?" Brienne challenged.

"Then she'll be taught to defend herself but also how to be a proper lady." Jaime decided. Whatever happened, as long as his child had a better childhood than he and Brienne had had, that was what mattered. "Have you considered a name yet?"

"Not yet," Brienne said. "Part of me wants to name them for someone, for their honour. On the other hand, they should be their own person with their own name. Not the expectation that comes with that name. A good name also has some meaning behind it."

"Maybe you won't know until the child is born," Jaime reasoned and Brienne shook her head.

"Well it's not like I've got anything to do to take my mind off of it. I am stuck in this bed." Brienne complained. "I know it's for the baby but it's still frustrating."

"It won't be for much longer." Jaime reassured and paused for a moment. "My father told me once that my mother had to do the same when she was pregnant with the two of us. Apparently she was so large that she found it almost impossible to stand for too long. The maesters even thought that we could have been triplets."

"Well, there is definitely only one child in here." Brienne replied and looked at Jaime softly. "You've never talked about your mother before."

"I don't really remember her. I was only four when she died. I remember that she had long hair that she never tied back, ever. She also smelt of honeysuckle and apple blossom. I remember that she used to love to dance and would always make me dance with her." Jaime said, blinking at the sudden wetness in his eyes. He hadn't thought of his mother in so long. He wondered momentarily, just how different would his and Tyrion's lives have been if she had lived. Tywin had rarely spoken about Joanna, when he did, it was one of the rare times when he actually showed emotion.

Brienne reached over and took her hand in his. "She would have been proud of you. You may have done some things you regret but you did them for the right reasons."

"She would have liked you, I know she would have." Jaime replied, removing his hand from hers in order to wipe his face. "I-I should go. I'm meant to be on guard patrol, I just wanted to leave you the dagger."

"That's fine," Brienne replied as Jaime smiled at her and got up off the bed. "Jaime, thank you. For everything."

"Anytime Brienne," Jaime said as he left the room. As the door shut behind him, Brienne lay back on her pillows and sighed deeply. In the past however minutes long Jaime's visit was; she had felt so many conflicting emotions that her head was even more confused than it had been before. She still didn't know how she felt about Jaime. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know how she felt about Jaime. It was too mixed up, too conflicting, too confusing.

Why couldn't things just be simple?


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: So things have been pretty busy and stressful at the moment so finding time to write was difficult. I hope you enjoy it.**

The next month or so passed in a dull haze for Brienne. Tyrion had returned to the capital and life in Winterfell carried on. In order to prevent her dull routine devolving into monotony; Brienne accepted any visitor she had who had something vaguely interesting to say or do. Arya had taught her to throw blades with pinpoint accuracy. However it could only be done when someone else was in the room because of the Maester's insistence that ten paces across the room could trigger her labour. Idiot. Podrick provided her with reports as well as a gift from his latest sweetheart; the weaver's daughter who had made a blanket for the baby. Sansa continued bringing her sewing as well as information from across Westeros. The only sort of interesting news was Sansa's cousin Robyn Arryn proposing marriage to Samwell's sister Talla Tarly.

"It'll be good for him. He's more matured now that he's away from Lysa and Littlefinger's influence." Sansa had explained to Brienne, as well as relaying the image of the whinging, selfish brat her cousin had been when she knew him in the Vale.

"Will you attend the wedding?" Brienne asked Sansa.

"Possibly, they're waiting until the Spring. The Reach is quite a distance from the Vale." Sansa replied and fell silent for a moment. "Some of the Northern lords have been dropping hints."

"They expect you to marry." Brienne guessed and Sansa nodded. "My lady,"

"Sansa," Sansa corrected. "I know it's my duty. I am the only one whose children will bear the Stark name. Bran can't have children. Arya's promised to Gendry; a Baratheon. Jon was raised as a bastard but is a Targaryen. I can't be the last of my name. I need an heir and I need a husband."

"I understand," Brienne said, setting her hand on her stomach. "Jaime and I discussed it; the child will have the name Tarth, providing Queen Daenerys allows them to be legitimised in my name."

"I think she will," Sansa said after a moment of consideration. If she were Daenerys, she would do the same. As horrid as it sounded; one less Lannister by name was better than another Lannister. "Brienne, can I ask you something; something private and personal?"

"You can ask me anything," Brienne said, noticing how pale Sansa had become. Clearly Brienne's attempt to take her mind off of the dragon in the room didn't work. Their conversation about marriage and heirs was an obviously difficult subject for Sansa and Brienne hated the idea of Sansa putting on a brave face and enduring what she already had twice over; forcing herself as a bride.

"Is it poss- it is possible for it not, not to hurt?" Sansa asked nervously, her eyes filled with fear and her face tense. She looked so lost and afraid that Brienne felt a surge of maternal instinct swell inside her. Sansa wasn't asking her as a friend. She was asking her as a mother.

"Oh Sansa," Brienne said and held out her arms. Sansa leapt out of her chair and sat on the bed, wrapping her arms tightly around Brienne. "What you experienced was not what should happen in the marriage bed. He was a brute and a monster. You will have someone who loves you, who cares for you. When that happens, he will understand and he will treat you the way you deserve to be treated. When you are ready for the next part, I can assure you that it doesn't hurt. When it's done properly, and he will want to do it properly, he will not hurt you."

"I couldn't understand why women enjoyed the marriage bed. Part of me still doesn't know." Sansa explained and Brienne stroked her hair.

"I didn't until it happened. When it's with the right person, at the right time, you understand then." Brienne reassured Sansa.

"Possibly." Sansa replied. "There's also the question of who I'll marry. The Stark name will have to live on. No one will give up their name to become a Stark."

"A second or third son or a bastard would not have an issue. You're the Lady of Winterfell, Wardeness of the North; you are of higher standing. They will give their name for yours." Brienne reassured. "What about Laurence Snow, Bastard of House Hornwood? They fought in the Battle of the Bastards; they're a loyal house and he's not much older than you."

"Possibly, I'll have to consider it." Sansa replied and she moved out of Brienne's arms but remained sitting on the bed. "What about you and Jaime?"

"What about us?" Brienne asked and Sansa looked at her.

"Does he really want to let the baby have your name instead of his?" Sansa asked. She knew Jaime was devoted to Brienne, but giving up his name seemed a bit too far.

"If the child has my name, my birth right takes priority. Jaime had forsaken his claim to Casterly Rock and his lands and gave it to Tyrion. It will be Tyrion's children who inherit Casterly Rock. My children will have Tarth." Brienne explained; she had received a few letters from her father. From his tone, it was clear that he wasn't happy about the circumstances of Brienne's pregnancy however did not disown or ignore the coming heir. So although it wasn't ideal; it also wasn't all bad.

Which seemed to have become her life's mantra for the past eight months. Not ideal but not all bad.

Later that afternoon, Brienne lay on her more comfortable side, trying not to flinch or focus too much as Brella completed her examination of her. "Well, there doesn't seem to be anymore sign of early labour but I don't think you should get out of bed just yet."

"How much longer will it be?" Brienne asked, "They've become less active. Is that normal?"

"Aye it is. It means they're beginning to settle down and move around to be in the right position to be born. You'll notice it more and more now. Once the head drops and the bump drops with it, then it'll be time soon enough." Brella explained, wiping her hands on her apron.

"What risks are there, on the actual day?" Brienne asked. It was easier to discuss it like a battle. She supposed it was a battle in a sense; the battle almost every woman fought. A battle wherein many women died.

"Each birth is different. If there's a sign of infection or fever or a bleeding that won't stop, then it will not be a good sign. A quick birth is ideal but not always possible. It can be between a few hours and up to a day and a half. If it goes beyond that point, then we look to alternatives." Brella explained. Brienne nodded, she knew what the alternatives were. It had been how a cousin of hers had died in childbed. She had been struggling to give birth, the baby just wasn't coming. In the end, the decision was made to do the operation that would save the baby, a little girl, but killed her cousin in the process.

"It shouldn't come to that." Brienne insisted as she thought of the nightmare that Jaime had had on his first night back in Winterfell. The nightmare of her undergoing the same operation being performed by an undead Cersei. "What will happen, when the labour starts?"

"There'll be some pain before your water breaks. It'll feel like a cramping pain but it will come and go for different lengths of time. Until the water breaks, we won't do a thing. The contractions could come hours before the water breaks, even then could be hours before the baby comes." Brella explained, smiling wryly. "Dunno why but some girls think once the water breaks, it's a few pushes and a baby. We're not that different from the mares in the stables or the cows in the field."

"I suppose not. Thank you." Brienne said as Brella left the room. It helped ease her mind slightly. She knew better about what was to come; as well as someone could know. There was little that could be predicted in childbirth; she recalled one of her maids had described it as a game between the Mother and the Stranger; something that was in the hands of the gods. Although she was no stranger to pain, she had little doubt that it was known as labour for a reason.

All they could do for the next few weeks was wait.

"A raven arrived for you," Bran informed Jaime as he wheeled himself down the passageway. He had taken Sansa's advice and had another chair build for himself, one with larger wheels at the back which allowed him to push himself along. It did make him feel more independent and even bran had to admit; it felt good having some time to himself without someone wandering behind him. He even managed to joke with Gendry about making a chair that could climb stairs. Bran wasn't sure what was happening; he was still the Three Eyed Raven but since the defeat of the Night King, it felt like small fragments of Bran Stark were coming back to him. The Three Eyed Raven didn't fuss over menial things like who controlled his chair but Bran did. During Tyrion's visit, they managed to scavenge the plans he had brought to Winterfell a lifetime ago; plans for a saddle to suit his needs. Bran Stark loved to ride horses.

"Thank you," Jaime replied; he still felt shame and remorse when he looked at Bran, remembering what he was and what he did for_ "love"_. How could he have flung a child to almost certain death for love? He hadn't been a man then, he had been a monster.

"It's from Lord Selwyn Tarth." Bran stated calmly as Jaime looked at the still intact wax seal.

"How do you know that?" Jaime asked; he was still unnerved by Bran's ability. He was sure everyone was to some extent.

"The sigil is of House Tarth. Only two people could have written to you and one of them is bedbound." Bran said with a small smile. Jaime smiled, despite himself and went to find somewhere private to open the scroll. Hidden in a slight alcove, Jaime read the words on the scroll. For a lord, the handwriting was cramped and difficult to discern, even for someone who didn't have the letters dance around but Jaime managed to read it. Jaime grinned at the letter, scrolled it up and slipped it into his pocket.

He had to speak to some people.

It had been later than usual when Jaime arrived to see her and the baby. Although his different patrols meant he couldn't see her every day or at the same time; he usually tried to see them before he went to bed. Brienne had been thinking about names, yet again, when Jaime walked in, without knocking and smiling as she held the dagger up.

"Just testing," Jaime said as he sat on the edge of the bed. They were still working out what it was between them. Things still weren't like they were before Jaime left but they also weren't as difficult as it had been since his return. Jaime had made his feelings clear and he had made it clear that he would understand if those feelings were never reciprocated. They were definitely friends again, best friends even, yet there was still that fear holding her back. That someday Jaime would leave again, only this time he wouldn't return and he would abandon both her and the baby.

"You're not funny." Brienne said, setting the dagger under her pillow again.

"I'm hilarious," Jaime replied as he reached into his pocket. "This is for you."

Brienne furrowed her brow as she took the scroll and unfurled it. Her eyes widened as she immediately recognised the handwriting. Father. It was from her father.

_Dear Jaime_

_By the time you read this, I shall be aboard a ship. I am sailing North to be with my daughter as her time grows closer. I thank you and Lady Stark for the invitation. I have not seen my daughter in many years and despite what others would think, I am glad they are good circumstances, as well as it can be. Should you wish to rectify it between you both._

_Regards_

_Lord Selwyn Tarth of Evenfall Hall_

"He's coming here?" Brienne asked Jaime who nodded. "You and Sansa invited him?"

"It was my idea," Jaime said quickly, worried that he had actually caused offence when he had wanted to help. "I just thought, it would be nice for him to be here when his grandchild was born. Sansa agreed and I wrote the letter."

"But it's winter, the seas could be too rough." Brienne said, although she knew it wasn't much of a fear. They were Islanders. Islanders from the Stormlands. No one could weather the sea any better; not even a Greyjoy. Brienne read the note again and cast her eyes. "He could have been more subtle with that last comment."

"You know I would never force you into anything." Jaime replied. "I want them to have your name, a name that inspires loyalty and honour and truth and everything a Lannister is not."

"You are those things; you've proven it." Brienne reassured and Jaime shook his head. "Jaime,"

"I did prove it, then I disproved it. Maybe I'm making it right but I don't know. I just want to do what's right, even if it goes wrong." Jaime said, wondering where the surge of self-bitterness had come from.

"You have been and you are. Have you any other ideas for the baby's name? I don't want to name them for someone; let them be their own person." Brienne offered and she was pleased to see a flicker of Jaime's smile. She wouldn't let him wallow in self-pity. Not anymore.

"I did think Joanna for a girl but you're right. They should be their own person." Jaime replied. "Also stop trying to distract me."

"Why not? I need a distraction. I still have another three weeks of lying in this bed. If I could burn it afterwards I would." Brienne claimed.

"Then where would you sleep?" Jaime asked with a smile. "I don't think the cradle will be big enough."

"I'll steal your bed, you can sleep on the floor." Brienne retorted triumphantly. "With the dogs!"

"Or in it beside you." Jaime said before he could stop himself and clapped a hand over his mouth; his cheeks flaming red. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. Not like that."

"It's fine," Brienne said calmly. "After all, it's not like we haven't shared a bed before. Like you once said, it's how we got in this mess. Although, it would mean putting up with your snoring."

"Snoring?! I don't snore!" Jaime protested, wondering how she always managed to make things, even awkwardness better.

"Yes you do!" Brienne said, laughing. "That first night, I thought someone let a pig into the castle!"

"Now that's just an insult. Tormund is a lot of things but he's not a pig!" Jaime argued, but in jest. He was laughing too and beamed as Brienne sat forward, still laughing with him. "Wait, didn't Sansa once say you vomited on him? You never told me that story."

"Oh gods," Brienne said, sobering at the memory. "I did. It was a few weeks after the battle for Kings Landing; I had only just had my pregnancy confirmed and I had been walking with Sansa. The sickness had hit quickly and the smell of the roasted meat made me feel sick. As we walked, we were trying to talk about anything other than the pregnancy because I wanted to keep it secret. I think I was still in denial. Anyway, we walked out into the courtyard and there he was. He must have been told that you were gone because he walked over, leering at me the way he did and he tried to make some crass comment. The only thing was, he had been drinking that horrible soured milk. I smelt it and just-" Brienne made a gesture with her hands, miming vomit spraying everywhere.

"Oh," Jaime said, smirking. Couldn't have happened to a better person.

"All over him. I tried to apologise but the worst thing was that he didn't mind. Just laughed it off and walked away." Brienne finished. "Although he finally left me alone after that, so it wasn't all bad."

"Silver linings." Jaime quipped as his fingers twitched on the quilt. "I don't think I've heard you laugh like that since the drinking game. You have a beautiful laugh."

"No I don't." Brienne denied as Jaime perched himself on the bed, looking into her eyes.

"No, we're done with that. If I can't wallow in self-pity then you can't lie to yourself about your beauty." Jaime said seriously. "Yes, you might not have the conventional beauty of Sansa or Daenerys but you have a beauty that comes from within. Your courage, your kind heart, your compassion and your intelligence. They shine out and make you beautiful. If you want to talk physical beauty, then yes you are beautiful. Your eyes, your hair, your smile, your strong body; all of it is beautiful. If our child had even half of those qualities you have; they'll be the most beautiful, perfect child in Westeros. I mean listen to me, I sound like a songwriter. That's what you do to me."

"But I'm not… not like her." Brienne said, turning away. Jaime cupped her chin gently and turned her head back.

"You are more beautiful, more clever, more kind, more, more indescribably amazing than she ever was. I never loved her. I thought I did but it was a lie. You however, you I do love. With all my heart and I always will." Jaime said truthfully. That was one thing that had never changed, despite all the other changes in his life over the past few years. He loved Brienne of Tarth. And he always would.

Brienne looked into Jaime's eyes; saw the honesty, the sincerity and the love in his gaze and she knew he spoke the truth. For a moment, she didn't say or do anything. She noticed a flicker of worry cross his face and she knew he felt he had said too much, made her feel uncertain or upset.

Except he hadn't. And she didn't.

Brienne gently removed Jaime's hand from her chin by pulling her head back. Instead, she placed both of her hands on his cheeks, mirroring the way she had done on that night. Only this time, he was the one who looked worried and she was determined. Determined to do what they should have done then.

Jaime knew it would happen before it did. However he still didn't believe it until he felt Brienne's lips on his. As soon as he felt it, Jaime felt himself kiss her back. They broke apart and smiled at one another, silently confirming it was what they wanted before they kissed again. It was tentative, familiar, _loving_.

It felt like home.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: So I've been absolutely buried with work the past few weeks but I've been building this up in my head until I've had a chance to write this. I hope you like it.**

Five days following the arrival of Lord Selwyn's letter, Jaime found himself standing in the middle of the Winterfell courtyard alongside Sansa, awaiting his arrival. Jaime found himself feeling surprisingly nervous at meeting Lord Tarth. This was Brienne's father, a man who adored his daughter and who would doubtlessly hate Jaime for all of his actions towards Brienne. Which Jaime could understand. He had been dishonourable, besmirched Brienne's name and left her honour in the dirt. Anyone would hate him for what he did. Jaime shook his head, trying to remove those thoughts from his mind. Brienne had forgiven him, they were rebuilding what he had broken and things were improving.

Ever since Brienne kissed him, they spent their nights together again. Nothing more serious than a kiss between them. Partly because they both felt it was still too soon to progress their relationship further, choosing to take it slow this time around. It was also partly due to her time growing closer and closer and neither of them wanted to risk Brienne's labour starting prematurely. There was just around two weeks left until the baby was due to be born and neither of them wished to let anything.

Jaime looked ahead at the sound of horses approaching and people calling aloud at the sight of people coming towards Winterfell. Jaime held his head up high as he and Sansa watched the first horse arrive with its rider carrying a Tarth banner and he was closely followed by a strongly built man who dismounted from his horse. There was no doubt of who he was; his height, strong build and the sapphire blue eyes made it clear that this was Lord Selwyn Tarth. Lord Tarth walked towards them and made his bow to Sansa.

"Lady Stark," Selwyn said, politely kissing her hand.

"Lord Tarth, welcome to Winterfell." Sansa replied as she gestured to Jaime. "Ser Jaime Lannister,"

"Lord Tarth," Jaime said politely, bowing his head. Lord Tarth looked at him and turned back to Sansa.

"I would like to see my daughter." Lord Tarth replied, ignoring Jaime and Sansa nodded.

"Of course, she's resting at the moment." Sansa replied as she instructed some of the servants to help sort out the Tarth men to their rooms and the Lord's bedchamber. Sansa turned and walked inside, Lord Tarth followed her and Jaime pulled up the rear. He supposed that went better than expected. He hadn't been beaten or kicked.

"Brienne, there's someone here to see you." Sansa said, tapping on the door before opening it. Brienne was sitting up in bed and as they walked in, Brienne set the book aside and smiled at the three of them.

"Father," Brienne said as Selwyn smiled at his daughter and walked over to put his arms around her. "I can't believe you're here."

"I had to see you, look at you," Selwyn said gently as he rested his hand on her stomach. He hadn't been pleased to hear the rumours and the later confirmation of his daughter's pregnancy. Then again, Brienne had never been one to play by society's rules and she seemed content with the pregnancy. This was her child, the heir of House Tarth and if she had not had Jaime Lannister hung from the tallest tower by his private parts, there had to be more to what he had heard.

"You're not mad?" Brienne asked and for a split second, Jaime could imagine her as a child, speaking to her father after getting into trouble for fighting or tearing a dress.

"I was but not anymore. I've never been able to control your choices." Selwyn replied with a small smile as he glanced at Jaime. Jaime looked back at him but made sure to hold his tongue. There was a time and a place to say what he was thinking and this wasn't it.

"We're petitioning the Queen to give the baby our name and rights to Tarth. They will be legitimised but in our name, not as a Lannister." Brienne explained and Selwyn looked testily at Jaime.

"And you are OK with that, boy?" Selwyn asked and Jaime maintained eye contact with him. He was not going to be quelled by anyone, not even Brienne's father.

"I am, Brienne is heir to the Isle of Tarth and I am not regarded within the succession of Casterly Rock or House Lannister. Our child deserves a strong future and should not be burdened with the history of my name." Jaime explained. The time when Lannister was a name that inspired respect, admiration and obedience had long gone and Jaime would be content if it remained that way.

"That is true. The names that they call you aren't ones that you would pass to a child." Selwyn said as Brienne touched his arm.

"Father, we've already discussed this many times. He is more than that in in this case, he's just as guilty as I am. We made a decision that we didn't consider the consequences of." Brienne reassured as Jaime walked over to her and sat on the other side of the bed, putting his arm around her as Brienne held his hand, linking their fingers together. Selwyn looked at Brienne.

"Does he make you happy?" Selwyn asked and Brienne smiled at Jaime.

"Yes, he does. Despite what he may have done before." Brienne replied.

"Do you love her?" Selwyn asked Jaime who looked at Brienne, saw the momentary flicker of worry in her eyes. Something he never wanted to see again.

"More than I can say," Jaime replied truthfully. He loved Brienne so much that it scared him. It was like Tyrion had said, a sort of love that inspired songs, one that existed for years and becoming a legend with the intensity and one that he knew would last forever.

"I love you too," Brienne said as Jaime kissed her forehead. Selwyn gave a small smile and turned to Sansa who nodded at him, silently confirming that this was true, not just an act that they had pulled together.

"We'll leave the two of you alone," Sansa said. "Lord Selwyn, have you met the new Lord of the Stormlands; Gendry Baratheon?"

"I haven't," Selwyn said as he stood and offered his arm to Sansa. "Maybe you can escort me, my lady?"

"Of course," Sansa replied as she and Selwyn left the room. As the door shut behind them, Brienne exhaled a breath and looked at Jaime.

"That was easier than I expected." Brienne replied and Jaime smiled.

"I had the same thought." Jaime replied as he squeezed her hand. "I meant what I said. I do love you and I'm grateful to have had this second chance with you."

"I feel the same," Brienne said as she moved their hands to her stomach. It seemed like the baby had dropped down overnight so her time could come any day now. "Jaime, I want you to promise me something."

"What is it?" Jaime asked, noting the serious tone in her voice and he could probably guess what she was going to say next.

"If anything happens to me, and I need to say this so don't interrupt," Brienne said, spotting the look on Jaime's face as he realised what she was talking about and she knew what his reaction would be, "this is a serious possibility. It happens to women and girls all the time, it happened to our mothers. If I die in labour or if they have to remove the child from me or the fever takes me afterwards; you need to promise me that you will look after them. Keep them safe, give them a good life, take them to Tarth; they need to see the sea. Don't become your father and refuse to let them know about me or about us. Promise me Jaime."

"I promise." Jaime replied. He tried to not think about the possibility of Brienne dying in the childbed and his nightmare about Cersei cutting the baby from Brienne had started to return as the nights and days drew closer to Brienne giving birth. Jaime knew that if the worst happened, he would make sure that their child would grow up, happy, safe, loved and knowing how much Brienne loved them and how much he and Brienne loved each other.

"Thank you," Brienne said as she shuffled over on the bed and Jaime kicked off his boots to lie beside her. Brienne turned onto her side and Jaime placed their hands and his stump over her bump. They could feel each squirm, movement and kick their baby give; Brienne was now so heavily pregnant that each one could be seen despite the think nightshirt that she wore. They had made a decision two nights prior that if the baby was a boy then Brienne would choose the name and if the baby was a girl, Jaime would choose the name. Different names had gone through his mind; traditional names that he couldn't think of anyone he knew with them, so it wouldn't be seen as their child being named for them. Yesterday his mind had wandered towards musical names, such as Harmony or Melody but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe the name would come to him in the right moment.

Later that evening, Jaime slipped away from the feast welcoming Lord Selwyn in order to make his way back to Brienne. And to bed. He had had an uneasy night's rest the night before, partly due to nightmares but also due to feeling anxious about meeting Brienne's father. Although he had seemed polite and civil to Jaime, Jaime wasn't fool enough to assume Lord Tarth would accept him as a son. It would take more than a few polite conversations for that to happen. Still, he would do whatever was best for Brienne and the baby; his needs and feelings came after them. Always.

Brienne stirred as Jaime entered the room and got ready for bed. Jaime smiled at her and stroked her hair before he climbed into bed. He felt Brienne smile against him as he quickly kissed her forehead before lying next to her. As he drifted off to sleep, it felt like only moments had passed before he felt someone shaking his shoulder, pulling him from sleep.

"Wozgoinon?" Jaime mumbled drowsily, blinking in the dim light created by the embers of the fire. Jaime pulled himself up, he could feel Brienne moving on the bed. "Brienne?"

"It hurts," Brienne said as she breathed through another wave of pain. "I think the baby's coming."

Immediately awake, Jaime rolled over and sat up in the bed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure!" Brienne snapped. "It hurts like it did before only it's more intense now."

"I'll get the midwife," Jaime said as he jumped out of the bed and quickly pulled his clothes on. Once he was dressed, Jaime rushed over and kissed Brienne. "Everything will be fine. I'm going to be here."

"You're not going to be allowed to." Brienne said as she rubbed her back. The pain seemed to have faded for now but it had been coming and going since the early evening. She had initially dismissed it but the pain was coming more frequently and it was getting stronger. Jaime grinned at her before he rushed to the door.

"I'd like to see which one is brave enough to keep me away."


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Thanks for the reviews and feedback; I can tell that I rushed the last chapter so I'm going to make up with it for this one. I hope you enjoyed it.**

Jaime hurried down the passageway and grabbed the first pair of guards that he could find. Jaime grabbed one of them by the elbow and turned the guard forcefully to face him. "What do you want, Kingslayer?"

"Listen to me, you need to fetch the Maester and Brella, the midwife right now!" Jaime ordered and the second guard sneered at him.

"Why do we have to do what you say?" the guard smirked as Jaime glared at him, releasing his grip on the first guard and grabbing the second one by the throat.

"Because Ser Brienne is in labour with her baby. And if this labour is to be a success, she needs a Maester and the midwife. So if you two do not fetch them and something happens to her, I will slit both of you from navel to nose and dangle you from the battlements. Do? You? Understand?" Jaime threatened, feeling a surge of his former arrogance and frustration. Thankfully at his words, the two idiotic guards seemed to remember their limited wits and nodded obediently.

"Ser Brienne… of course Ser Jaime. Right away!" the first guard stammered as Jaime released the second and both of them took off down the passageway as though their shoes were on fire. Their love for Brienne having clearly overshadowed their disdain for Jaime. Somewhat satisfied, Jaime turned and hurried back to Brienne's chamber to find her standing shakily on her feet, clutching the bedpost as another contraction hit. Jaime put his arm around her and offered his left hand for her to grip.

"They're getting closer I think," Brienne said as Jaime tried to recall different Maester's and midwives advice from years ago. They always suggesting walking to help speed things along. Movement helped to focus the mother's mind and it helped speed up contractions.

"Come on," Jaime said, fixing his hold on her waist and slinging her arm over his shoulders. "You need to walk a bit, it will help."

"I've been in bed for months," Brienne replied, it was taking so much of her strength to even stand; her legs felt like a newborn lamb's. Even trying to stand felt like it was taking all of her energy. If she couldn't stand, how could she deliver a babe?

"I know but you're strong enough for this." Jaime reassured as they took a few steps around the room. After a moment, the feeling started to slowly return to Brienne's legs and she took a few more uneven paces. They continued walking around slowly for about five minutes before the Maester and Brella arrived.

"Excellent, movement will help stir the babe along." Brella said as she set down her equipment and Sansa entered the room, tying a borrowed apron around her dress. Clearly she had come straight from the feast; she was still in her best dress and her hair was still carefully styled. Although her sleeves were now pushed up and it was clearly the Lady of Winterfell who had come to help; her awkward squeamishness had been left in the great hall below.

"What do you need me to do?" Sansa asked Brella, who was helping Jaime lead Brienne back to the bed in order to be examined.

"Set the rags and rushes down on the floor. This is a messy business and they help soak up everything." Brella instructed. Just as she said that, Brienne felt a trickling wetness down her legs as she clutched onto Jaime, feeling another contraction hit. For a moment she thought she had wet herself but the liquid didn't smell like urine. Brella didn't seem too fussed, instead it seemed to support her words. "Like that. Your waters have broken Lady Brienne, we need to examine you now."

"Ser Jaime, you will need to leave. It's unlucky to have the father in the room." The master advised as Jaime looked at him. He didn't feel his earlier cockiness, instead he felt infuriated at the suggestion. Leave the room? Abandon Brienne and their baby in their hour of need? Undo all that he had done to repair the divide between them caused by his earlier abandonment of her? He would rather die. Sansa spotted the look on Jaime's face as she placed the rushes on the floor and nodded at him, dropping the rushes and silently slipping her own arms around Brienne to support her over to the bed. Jaime turned and faced the Maester, stepping close enough that they were almost face to face.

"And who will remove me from here? You? I highly doubt it. Brienne wants me here so here I will stay. I've helped several children into the world, I probably know more than you do. Now I am staying here and not the Seven themselves will change that." Jaime retorted. It was true, aside from Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen; Jaime had been present when Elia Martell bore her daughter; it had been the first time he had seen a child be born and he had found a new respect, not just for Elia but for all women for what they had to endure. During his travels, he had wandered across a village where the baker's daughter was undergoing her labour and he had helped her birth, not just a child, but identical twin boys. Childbirth fascinated him as much as it terrified him but the fact remained, he was going nowhere.

"He stays, Jaime stays." Brienne replied, wincing as Brella's careful hands examined her between the legs; Sansa had taken Jaime's place, holding Brienne's hand and was tactfully avoiding her gaze.

"OK, you're about three fingers dilated already but you need to be ten before it will be time to push. This is the first difficult part, we can't do anything. You have to wait." Brella said as Brienne nodded, the pain seemed to have formed into a steady ache, it still was one of the most painful things she had ever felt, but the agonising waves of the contractions had passed for now. All she could do was to grit her teeth and wait.

"Can't you give her something to help with the pain?" Sansa asked innocently. She had never seen anyone give birth, but she had heard the stories and remembered her mother's cries as she brought Bran and Rickon into the world. Surely if men were given milk of the poppy or other medicines when they were in pain, then women could be given something too.

"'fraid not Milady. All that will do is numb her senses and it can affect the baby. Still, this is why the Mother chose us to bore babes, we can handle the pain." Brella explained maternally to Sansa who smiled at Brienne. If any woman could handle the pain of childbirth, it was Brienne.

"Does my father know?" Brienne asked as Jaime sat on the mattress, taking her hand and sitting against the headboard.

"He heard when Brella fetched me. I think he's waiting outside." Sansa replied, glancing towards the door. Now that things had settled down, she could vaguely hear some murmuring voices on the other side of the door. Thankfully, none of them had drank as much as they had at the celebration party. Actually, now that she considered it, none of them had drank that much this evening. Bran. Bran must have seen it and warned the servants not to give any of them too much to drink tonight.

"I'll speak to him," Jaime said, slipping off of the bed. He crossed the room and opened the door a crack. To his surprise, Lord Selwyn wasn't alone in the passageway; Arya, Bran, Gendry and Podrick were all loitering in the passageway too; their conversation grinding to a halt as they looked at him.

"Is the baby born already?" Podrick asked naively as Jaime shook his head.

"Not yet," Jaime reassured as he looked at Selwyn, who was watching him testily. "Her water just broke, it could be some time."

"And you're staying with her." Selwyn stated, it wasn't a question. Jaime didn't treat it as one either.

"The Stranger himself couldn't send me away." Jaime replied and for a second, he saw a glimmer of respect in Selwyn's eyes before another cry of pain from Brienne broke it. "I need to get back to her."

"You do that," Selwyn said softly. In any other tone, it could have been taken as a jibe or an insult. A snarky reference to his previous actions. But it wasn't and Jaime didn't see it as one. Instead he shut the door and rushed back to Brienne's side; reaching for a hand and getting a clip around the head instead.

"This is your fault!" Brienne gasped as the contraction passed and Jaime took her hand, gently kissing it.

"I know but it will be worth it." Jaime reassured as Brienne glared at him. "I'll stay quiet."

"Smartest thing you've said tonight son," Brella commented as she examined Brienne again. "They're moving a little faster now. You're four centimetres but the contractions will start to come quicker and more painfully now. Whatever you need to do to ease the pain, cry, scream, hit, do it."

"I will," Brienne replied as she tightened her grip on Jaime's hand to prove her point. She always thought she had been able to master her pain, however as time passed and her labour progressed; the intensifying pain made her reconsider. This wasn't just pain; it was agony. Her body felt like it was tearing itself apart, each wave of pain was like white-hot knives in her back. And still, by the time the dawn broke, she was barely eight fingers dilated. She had given into the pain. She had cried, she had screamed, she had threatened Jaime to all seven hells, she had begged, literally begged for something, anything to take the pain away from her. This was unlike anything that she had ever experienced and there were times when she just wanted to give up; let the pain take her, slice her open and cut the child from her. Just something to make the pain stop.

"I feel sick," Brienne whispered in a hoarse tone. That had been another side effect of the pain. Her body throbbed and ached that much that her stomach had been churning and twisting and along with the waves of contractions, she had also had waves of nausea crash over her.

"That's normal." Brella said, passing Sansa a basin. Sansa stuck it under Brienne's chin just in time to catch the vomit as it came out of her mouth. Jaime rubbed her back supportively as Brienne retched and spat into the basin.

"Can we try moving again?" Brienne asked; she couldn't just lie in this bed anymore. She had wanted to burn it before. Now she wanted to rip it into pieces with her bare hands.

"We can get you to sit up on the edge of the bed," Brella advised as she, Jaime and Sansa helped to move Brienne so that her legs hung over the edge of the bed. The cold stone tiles seemed almost a relief on her feet. The maester was ensuring the fire was properly lit but the heat hadn't managed to break through the floor yet. The new position seemed to momentarily relieve some of the pain but when another contraction hit; this one seemed stronger than the others.

"Is it nearly time?" Sansa asked as Brella and the maester knelt by Brienne's legs, carefully pushing them apart. This time, finally, as Brella examined Brienne, she gave her a nod.

"Alright love, on this next one, I want you to push down as hard as you can. This should help the baby's head to come out." Brella advised and Jaime squeezed her hand tightly as he moved behind her back to support her body.

"You can do this Brienne, we're here." Jaime reassured her, kissing her forehead. Brienne wasn't able to speak and instead nodded her head. They didn't have to wait for the next contraction and as the pain hit, Brienne pushed with all her might along with the pain. This time she could feel the movement of the baby's head pushing against her, however instead of the head emerging, it seemed to withdraw back.

"Why didn't it come out?" Brienne asked and Brella dismissed it.

"It's normal, just push harder." Brella replied as she felt another contraction. "Try again."

Brienne pushed with all her strength and this time she felt the head force its way out of her body. Now it seemed that instinct had taken over and her body pushed itself along with the contraction pains. She could barely see, barely hear, she couldn't hear the advice of the maester and Brella, nor could she hear the words of encouragement from Sansa and Jaime. All she could focus on was the pain and bringing her baby into the world. It seemed to take hours but the reality was that it took only minutes for the baby to be born from when the head began to emerge.

Finally, finally, the baby emerged from her and into Brella's waiting arms. Jaime felt tears fill his eyes as he stared at the newborn babe; covered in blood, squirming and once the cord was cut, began to wail and scream.

"What is it?" Brienne asked as Brella set the infant into her arms.

"It's a girl, you have a daughter," Brella said as Brienne turned to Jaime, tears glinting in her eyes as they flowed down Jaime's face.

"A daughter," Brienne whispered as she felt another wave of pain. "What's that?"

"Just the afterbirth," the maester replied as Sansa took the baby to wrap in a blanket as he and Brella helped Brienne safely through the delivery of the afterbirth. Once that matter had been dealt with, Sansa carefully handed the baby to Jaime, who awkwardly held his arms in order to cradle his newborn daughter. She was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen; scarlet in the face, still wailing, two clenched fists protruding from the blanket, protesting at her uncomfortable arrival into this new strange world. Jaime examined her carefully; trying to find any traits or traces that could connect her to him or Brienne.

Yet he saw none. She was her own unique individual. She was beautiful. She was perfect.

"Give her to Brienne, she needs her mother." Brella advised as Sansa and the maester helped Brienne lie back in the bed. Reluctantly, Jaime handed his daughter to her mother and he watched as Brella helped Brienne latch the baby onto her breast in order to feed. As the baby began to feed, Brienne looked up at Jaime.

"She's beautiful," Brienne whispered, her voice hoarse.

"She is," Jaime replied as he kissed her. "You were incredible, you were so strong. If she has even some of your strength, she'll be the strongest girl in Westeros."

"Not yet, give her some time to be a baby," Brienne said as she looked at Sansa. "Thank you Sansa."

"I was happy to help." Sansa said. "Do you want Jaime to tell the others?"

"No," Jaime replied, his gaze fixed on his daughter. "I'm not leaving her for a moment."

"You can tell them," Brienne clarified as the baby finished feeding and she sat the baby and carefully rubbed her back to encourage her to wind. Sansa beamed and bounced towards the door, throwing it open excitedly. As the door opened, Selwyn glanced up and Arya, Podrick and Gendry sat up from their slumped together position on the floor. They looked at Sansa, who beamed at them joyfully. "It's a girl!"

"How is Brienne?" Selwyn asked over the other's excited questions.

"She's fine, she's just resting. Jaime's with her, he's refusing to go anywhere." Sansa explained and Selwyn gave a curt nod. "You should be able to see them, the rest of us can wait."

Arya, Gendry and Podrick shared a look but didn't protest. Although they did view themselves as a makeshift, ramshackle family; there were times that blood family came first. Selwyn entered the room and stepped over to the bed. Brienne smiled tiredly at her father who smiled at her.

"Can I hold her?" Selwyn asked and Brienne handed him his granddaughter. Selwyn carefully held her in his arms and examined her features. "I can't tell who she looks like."

"She was just born," Brienne argued. All newborns looked the same, although hers was more beautiful.

"You'll be able to tell soon," Selwyn stated as he looked at Jaime. "You stayed with her."

"I did," Jaime replied. "I made a promise, I kept that promise. I know that this doesn't change anything but that is between myself and Brienne. I made a vow to both of them that night I returned. I vowed that I would never leave them, never abandon them. I will keep that vow."

Selwyn looked at him intently and Jaime took a moment to appreciate how intimidating he could look, even with a newborn in his arms. Always a man of action instead of words, Selwyn gently positioned his hold on the baby in order to offer his left hand for Jaime to shake. Jaime took it and accepted the unspoken approval of Brienne's father. He knew Selwyn would probably never like him but he accepted Jaime's promise to stay by Brienne and the baby's side. For now, it would be enough.

"Does she have a name?" Selwyn asked. "You can't call her Baby forever."

"We had an agreement. I would chose if it was a boy; Jaime would choose if it was a girl." Brienne explained as Selwyn handed the baby back to Jaime. As Jaime looked at his daughter; dozens of names raced through his mind. Some were traditional names, some were names of those they had lost, some followed themes, some were of childhood tales and long forgotten songs, finally his mind seemed to settle on one. An unusual choice but the more he considered it; the duality of the beauty of the flower along with its sharp protector; it seemed perfect for their daughter who would grow to be beautiful, kind hearted and clever but also fierce and strong and able to protect herself. He knew the name originated from some children's tale or another but it also seemed like the perfect name for their daughter to begin her story with.

"Briar, Briar Rose," Jaime said finally as Brienne gave a soft smile. Without having Jaime explain it, she understood his reasoning for it. Putting Briar first gave the image of sharp thorns, protective and ready. Rose for the beauty that she hoped her daughter would have and not have it turned against her like she had. Strong, protective, beloved and beautiful; the name was perfect for what they would wish their daughter to be.

"Briar Rose of House Tarth, I like it," Brienne said as Jaime handed Briar Rose back to her and kissed Brienne's forehead. Although she was exhausted from labour, Brienne didn't want to sleep. She was content to lie in bed and hold her daughter forever. Let the rest of the world fade away. Brienne could understand why women went through this torment more than once, when the end result was the most beautiful, pure and precious thing in the world, who wouldn't begrudge all the trials it took for them to get there.

For a moment, there was a moment of serene happiness between them before they heard the others outside debating whether to knock or walk into the room. Brienne and Jaime shared a look before Jaime walked over to the door. The moment was over.

It was time to introduce their daughter to the world.


End file.
